Shipwrecked
by njbrennan
Summary: Post-S3 Christmas Special: After a chance encounter aboard a transatlantic vessel, Edith Crawley is determined to forget about Anthony Strallan. But Mother Nature intervenes, setting them on a course to right old wrongs, forge new paths, and realize that sometimes, two people are just meant to be together. All characters belong to Fellowes.
1. The Ship

A/N: Hello! This next story of mine has been partly inspired by some wonderful Andith fics as of late that have taken our dear couple off the British Isles and sent them to warmer climes. So, too, will this story take our couple away from all of the distractions that surround them in England. It's set after the S3 Christmas Special; Anthony jilted Edith, who is now getting more serious with Gregson. Also, let's say that Matthew informed Robert of Gregson's intentions and situation before his death. As always, all characters belong to Fellowes. Enjoy!

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"Cora, believe me, I know it's extreme, but it seems like the only solution," Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham, told his wife. "If there were any other way, I would take it. But as it stands, we cannot let the situation continue on like this. That is, unless you have another suggestion…"

Cora Crawley glanced up at her husband; there was despair etched onto her delicate features and she found it difficult to sustain eye contact with the man as he paced in their library. The past two years had been the hardest of her life. Even the war was more bearable at times than what she had been through, what her entire family had been through lately. First, losing Sybil and then Matthew. It was all too much. And now, this. What more could life throw at her?

"Robert, I wish I didn't have to say this, but I think your plan seems best. I don't know what else we could do," she muttered despondently.

Robert finished his scotch and firmly replied, "Then it's settled. I'll make the calls."

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"Mama, you can't!" Edith shrieked as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "But Mama, I love him!"

Cora stood up from her daughter's bed and tried to explain her reasoning to her daughter yet again. "Edith, he's married. Can you imagine the scandal that would break if this ever got out? If you became pregnant?"

"Mother! Michael and I haven't…we…" Edith countered desperately at her mother's accusation.

Cora was at least relieved to hear that. "Thank God for that. But, regardless, your father and I think it is best if you cease all contact with that man. We've spoken to my mother and she is willing to let you stay with her at her summer residence in Florida for a while. At least until you have sorted through your priorities and your obligations to this family."

Edith's jaw dropped. "My obligations?" she asked indignantly. "Obligations are what caused this mess in the first place! Obligations are what made Anth…" Edith stopped herself; she couldn't bring herself to say his name.

Cora heard the pain in her daughter's voice, but still pressed on. "I'm sorry, Edith, but this decision is final," she asserted. "Your boat leaves tomorrow morning at 9:00. Anna has already packed a trunk for you."

The seriousness of her mother's words rang in her ears and Edith could tell there would be no arguing with her. She burrowed her face in her pillows and through the tears, she cried, "Get out, Mama. Please, leave me alone."

Cora went to pat her daughter on the back, but thought otherwise. Quietly, she slipped out of the room and closed the door, unaware that it would be the last night her daughter would ever sleep under Downton's roof again.

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"Well, Sir, are you all ready?" the valet asked of his master as he smoothed the gentleman's jacket down.

Anthony Strallan gave his appearance one final look in the mirror. His blond, wispy hair was whiter than it had ever been, his once bright blue eyes had lost their luster, and he looked much older than he really was. "Ready as I'll ever be, Jones," Anthony replied somberly.

Jones, a short, elderly man who had served Sir Anthony's father, was quite worried for his master. Such a long journey overseas to America seemed too much for him, even if it was for his sister, Eleanor's wedding to a Texas oilman. Sir Anthony hadn't left the grounds of Locksley since that fateful day nearly two years ago. Of course, Jones knew never to speak of it; none of the servants did. They carried on as though nothing had happened, as though their master's heart wasn't shattered. But Jones knew otherwise. After that day at the church, Sir Anthony had reverted back to the way he was when he returned from the Great War: drinking far too much, suffering from night terrors, and caring far too little for his health or his future.

It was made even more painful for the old valet to witness when there had been such a happy respite during Sir Anthony's engagement to Lady Edith. His master had taken such a keen interest in life, in his future with the earl's middle daughter. Of course, as the wedding grew closer, Jones noticed Sir Anthony muttering strange things, insecurities, doubts about himself and his condition. He knew that it certainly wasn't Lady Edith who put these thoughts in his mind, not with the way she looked at him when he entered a room. It had to be something, or someone else.

"Sir, we had better get a move on. We're due at the docks in half an hour," Jones reminded the gentleman. "I'll settle the bill with the front desk."

"Mmm, of course. Thanks, Jones," Anthony muttered somewhat absentmindedly. He and Jones had stayed at an inn in Liverpool the night before in preparation for their journey to New Orleans. From there, they would travel to Houston, where the future-Mrs.-Chetwood was to be married. Despite missing his younger sister, Anthony wanted nothing more than to be back home at Locksley, locked in his study. The thought of having to spend any extended period of time with strangers at a wedding mortified him, especially since the last time he was at a wedding, it was his own.

A few minutes later, Anthony met Jones on the street in front of the inn and they hailed a taxi for the docks.

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Edith stepped out of the cab and smoothed down her travel dress, one that Michael had purchased for her in London, a fact of which her parents were ignorant. Draping her feminine form rather well, the dress was creamy brown and ended just below the knee, with sapphire blue ribbons, her favorite color, around her waist and at the neck. Michael had a taste for these things, she always told herself.

Looking around at the shipyard, Edith yawned. She had been up before the sun to catch the morning train to Liverpool with Anna. The young maid insisted that her presence was merely for moral support, but Edith knew better; she knew that her parents sent Anna to insure that she got on that boat and didn't dart off to London and into Michael's waiting arms.

Anna instructed a porter about what to do with Lady Edith's bags and trunk, and turned to say her good-bye when Edith grabbed her arm lightly. "Anna, do you think you could do a massive favor for me?" she asked.

"I can try, milady," the maid responded.

"Will you post this letter for me? It's of great importance," Edith told her as she pulled an envelope from her purse.

Anna took it and was mildly disappointed to see Michael Gregson's name and address written in her lady's feminine hand. Anna had heard all about his intentions to make her his mistress; it was all the servants of Downton could seem to talk about. Initially, Anna had been sympathetic to Lady Edith's relationship with the editor, even given his married state. How could she judge when her relationship with Bates had begun in the same way? But when she learned that Gregson wanted Edith to be his mistress, knowing the risks of such behavior, it put a bad taste in her mouth, to say the very least. Bates had refused to take Anna as his mistress and he did so out of love for her. Anna decided that if this Gregson fellow really loved Lady Edith, he wouldn't ask such things of her.

"I'll do my best, milady."

Satisfied with that answer, Edith smiled and gave Anna a quick, polite hug. "Thank you, Anna. You're a dear."

Then, after saying her goodbye to Anna, Edith reluctantly turned towards the ship, handed her ticket to the attendant, and walked up the long, steep ramp.

Edith looked at her ticket stub, which told her that she was staying in room 443, and quickly made her way there. She didn't care to participate in the traditional sending off, where passengers would wave at those on the docks. No, this trip wasn't supposed to be exciting or joyous in any way; it was more of a prison sentence, Edith mused. Instead, she wanted nothing more than to kick off her shoes, take off her hat, and sleep until dinner.

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Anthony and his valet arrived at the Liverpool docks with plenty of time to spare. Jones had some porters take the trunks on board and as Anthony purchased a newspaper from a newsboy, he saw something in the corner of his eye that caught his attention.

There, walking up the ramp to the ship was a woman in creamy brown dress. Although she was a great distance away, Anthony could have sworn she looked just like Edith, and moved just like Edith. At the thought, Anthony quickly chastised himself, rationalizing that he saw Edith everywhere, and perhaps this was just another figment of his imagination.

It was true; Anthony was reminded of Edith in almost everyday. He saw her most frequently in his library at Locksley, on the settee and in a stack of Jane Austen books that had gone untouched for two years; he saw her in his orchard and in the Rolls; and most painfully, Anthony saw Edith in his dreams, where she seemed so real to him, where she would kiss and caress him in the way he had desired for almost a decade.

Just your mind playing tricks on you, old fool, he thought to himself, trying to shake the feelings that this had stirred in him. It's been two years, for crying out loud!

Anthony and Jones approached the attendant and after boarding, parted ways. Jones went down to second class, while Anthony moseyed towards the first class level, room 440 to be precise, and got settled. He took his sling off and splashed some cool water on his face. He always hated travelling by boat, as he usually got a little seasick.

Anthony rested on the bed and placed a wet towel on his forehead. The gentle rocking of the boat quickly lulled him into a deep sleep, where he met Edith once again. In this dream, she was draped across his chest after making love, playing with the wedding ring on his left hand, and telling him how she loved him more than any other man in the world.

Just as she was about to reach up and kiss him, Anthony was quickly startled from his dream by a loud knock at the door.

"Sir?" came Jones' timid voice. "Dinner will be served in a short while; would you like some assistance dressing this evening?"

Anthony jumped up, opened the door, and hoped that Jones wouldn't notice the redness of his cheeks. "Oh, of course, Jones. Thank you. I fell asleep and completely lost track of time."

"No matter, Sir. We still have plenty of time."

And so, the two began their elaborate routine, made more difficult by Anthony's embarrassment of his injured arm. Although the ship was a smaller one, housing only a few hundred souls, there was still a very elegant first class dining room, so Anthony thought white tie attire to be best for the dinner. Once fully shaved, combed, and dressed, Anthony thanked Jones once again before he retreated back to the second-class level for dinner.

After a final check in the mirror, Anthony grabbed his room key, left his quarters, and turned back to lock up. As he finished, he straightened up and began to walk down the hall towards the dining room.

Before he even made three full strides, Anthony collided with someone, whom he caught at the last moment with his good arm. Helping the person to gain balance, Anthony inhaled a scent he hadn't smelled in two years: the sweetest perfume of lavender and honey. Slowly, his eyes moved up, past the creamy brown dress and landed on two chestnut eyes that stared back at him as though they had just seen a ghost.

"Edi—Lady Edith, what a charming surprise," Anthony managed despite the heartbeat pounding in his ears, still unsure if the woman standing before him was an apparition or if she was the real woman he had loved all along.


	2. The Storm

Edith tried to respond, to mutter something, anything, but her mouth would not allow her. She simply stared back at her ex-fiancé, the man who had walked away and broken her heart, and watched as his surprised smile faded into a look of terror.

"Oh, ah, I'm sorry that I've disturbed you Lady Edith. I'll let you be," Anthony mumbled faintly before he bowed slightly and turned around looking for an escape. He bolted down the narrow hall past the guest chambers and turned the corner. Seeing that the corridor was deserted, Anthony leaned against a wall for support, loosening his cravat slightly to relieve his sharp, shallow breathing.

Had he really seen her? It all happened so quickly and unexpectedly that Anthony was beginning to doubt whether he really had. His mind _had_ led him astray before, one of the many lasting side effects of the Great War. As Anthony assessed the event that just transpired, he concluded that one of two possibilities could explain it. One, he really did imagine the love of his life standing in that hallway before him. She had seemed so real that he could even smell her perfume; but if his mind really had imagined it all, he seriously feared for his mental health. Or two, Edith really was aboard the _RMS Carmania_ and this possibility frightened Anthony even more. It had been nearly two years since he had last seen Edith, since he had abandoned her at their wedding ceremony. Although he desperately wanted to see her and hold her in his arms, Anthony knew he would be most unwelcomed because of what he had done.

Anthony's breathing had slowed and he checked his pocket watch: only a few minutes until dinner was to be served. He gathered himself, tried to tighten his cravat with his good hand, and pressed on towards the dining room.

The first class dining room was small, but not overly so for a ship of the _Carmania's_ size, and was wonderfully decorated with large oil paintings and a grand chandelier. Anthony made his way to the nearest round table and hastily sat down, his eyes darting all around the room. If Edith was really here, she would likely be dining in this room for dinner, and Anthony was desperate to catch a glimpse of her.

A plump, gaudily dressed, elderly woman sat down next to Anthony and introduced herself as Lydia Milton, nervously telling him that it was her first journey without her husband, who had passed away last year. Anthony faintly, sympathetically smiled and took her hand, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

After the wine had been served, Lydia asked, "Sir Anthony, is there anything troubling you? I keep seeing your eyes dart around the room." Then lowering her voice to a mere whisper, she added, "Is there someone you'd like to avoid? Is someone following you?"

Feeling mildly embarrassed, Anthony cleared his throat and politely told the woman, "I'm terribly sorry if I have caused you any alarm, Mrs. Milton. The truth is, I thought I had seen someone from my past earlier this evening, someone whom I…" Anthony stopped himself before he admitted it aloud. Placing his napkin on the table, Anthony stood up and said, "I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me, I think I'll turn in. I seemed to have…lost my appetite."

Before Lydia could object, Anthony was gone, on his way towards the solitude of his quarters. "Oh, the poor dear," she mumbled to no one but herself.

Once Anthony reached his room, he briskly divested himself of his cravat, jacket, and waistcoat, pacing about the small cabin. He felt hot all over. He had to know if Edith was really aboard the ship or if he was losing his sanity. Without putting his jacket or waistcoat back on, something he usually considered highly improper, Anthony left his room in search of Edith.

When he had bumped into her earlier that night, it had only been a few strides down from his own room, so Anthony counted three strides and stood nervously in front of room 442. Slowly, Anthony raised a shaky fist up to the door three steps down from his room. No one answered. Anthony desperately tried again. Nothing.

Moving down to room 443, Anthony tried again. He didn't care if he had to knock on every door on this bloody ship; if Edith were aboard, he would find her.

He knocked lightly three times. Again, no answer.

But as he began to move down to the next room, Anthony heard the door hinges creak open. A soft, familiar voice asked, "Hello?"

Anthony felt his whole body tense up in a single moment. Nervously, he turned around and saw Edith standing just outside her door with a silk bathrobe wrapped around her petite frame. For a moment, the two almost-lovers just stared at each other, neither saying a word.

Finally, it was Edith who spoke. "What are you doing here?" Her tone was not pleasant, but one could hardly blame her; the man did jilt her at the altar.

"I, um, am traveling to my sister's wedding in Texas," Anthony stated. Without thinking, he added, "And what brings _you_ here?" Anthony immediately regretted pressing her. He had no right to ask about her business; he forfeited that at the church so long ago.

"It's…complicated. Let's just say that I'm visiting my grandmother, the American one, in Florida for a few months."

There was a long, awkward silence. Hoping to ease things along, Anthony told her, "I've read your columns in the _Sketch_. They were very thought provoking. You certainly have a talent for writing."

"Well, I had to find ways to occupy my time after you left me, didn't I?" Edith snapped. Anthony nearly winced in pain at her words, as there was a high degree of truth in them.

"Edith, I just wanted to apol-" Anthony began, but Edith cut him off.

"I think it's best if we avoid each other for the remainder of the voyage. What you did that day, well, all I'll say is that it took me a long time to move on, but I think I have now. I don't want to rehash old wounds, so if you would be so kind, please let me be. You at least owe me that."

Anthony opened his mouth to retort, but Edith's stern expression convinced him to remain silent. "Of…of course. I do at least owe you that," he mumbled. "Take care, Lady Edith."

After Anthony retreated to his room, Edith returned to hers and threw herself on the bed. She rolled over and grabbed the pillow to muffle her sobs. All at the same time, she both hated and loved Anthony Strallan.

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The remainder of the seven-day voyage was strained for Edith and Anthony, to say the very least. For a ship of _Carmania's_ size, the two seemed to be running into each other constantly. Always the gentleman, Anthony would excuse himself and retreat back to his cabin. Eventually, he avoided all common areas and mostly stayed in his room, for both his and Edith's sake.

On this night, the last before their ship was to dock in Florida, the seas were especially rough, fraught with a terrible storm. Already prone to seasickness, Anthony was miserable. He had abandoned the novel he had been reading in favor of a bucket, should sickness overwhelm him completely. The ship's rocking became more violent and Anthony became rather concerned. Larger ships shouldn't feel the crests and troughs of waves the way a small boat would, he thought.

Just as he stood up to look through the porthole of his cabin, Anthony heard a loud, distant noise, but an ominous one, no doubt. He crossed the room and opened his door to see if anyone else had heard it. The other passengers had assembled outside their doors in various states of undress, including Edith, whose eyes were red and puffy.

"What was that?" a female passenger asked.

"It sounded like an explosion," a man replied. "I was on a ship during the war and we were hit by the Germans. It sounded a lot like what I just heard."

Some of the women gasped and the entire corridor was filled with nervous chatter. Anthony pushed his way through the small crowd towards Edith's side. Although she had asked for space when they last spoke, he wanted to know that she was all right. No, he _needed_ to know.

Looking into her dark eyes, Anthony asked, "Are you all right, Lady Edith?"

Edith rubbed her arms as though she was cold, silently hating that he had added her title to her name. "Why wouldn't I be? We're not even sure what that was. Is there even cause for concern?"

Before Anthony could respond, a young man in a white uniform came running down the hallway with a stack of life vests in his arms. "Please, ladies and gentlemen, the captain wishes that you take one of these vests. Purely precautionary. There is a situation in the engine room, brought on by the storms, but we're managing it."

He started to hand life vests to the crowd when a male passenger said, "But there was an explosion. We all heard it."

The young man in uniform anxiously replied, "Sir, the captain doesn't want to cause any sort of panic, but yes, there was an explosion with one of the engines. I shouldn't even tell you this, but the engine room has flooded."

"Are you telling me that our ship is sinking?" another man asked indignantly. "In this storm, no less?"

The uniformed man solemnly nodded. "It seems as though the storm had caused a strain on one of the engines and it gave out, exploded, which caused a tear in the wall of the ship. If you would, please calmly make your way towards the lifeboats," he instructed before he left to relay his message to the other floors.

Now, the nervous chatter had morphed into hysterical chatter. While the others rushed into their rooms to collect their more valuable belongings, Anthony grabbed Edith by the wrist and led her down the hall towards the deck. Through the circular window, he could see that it was pouring outside and the waves were dark and massive.

Pausing on the other side of the door, safe from the storm, Anthony told Edith, "Please, put your life vest on. And when you're through, would you mind…helping me with mine?"

Edith rapidly put hers on, and then gently took Anthony's injured arm out of the sling so she could get the vest above his head. It was strange, she thought. They had barely spoken during the entire trip, and here she was touching him more intimately than she ever had.

"Edith, we need to get to a lifeboat."

"What about your man? Didn't you bring him along?"

Anthony's heart lurched. In an instinctual drive to protect Edith, he had regretfully forgotten about Jones. "I'll go get him from downstairs. You must get to a boat, do you understand?"

"No. I'm coming with you," Edith said defiantly. If they got separated, Edith wasn't sure she would find him again. Despite all of the anger and bitterness she felt towards the man, she didn't want to see him perish or be left wondering if he did.

"Absolutely not. Get to a boat!"

"Once we find Jones."

Realizing that arguing with her was wasting precious moments, Anthony reluctantly nodded and the two expeditiously ventured down a deserted hallway and descended down an adjoining stairwell. Looking down, Anthony saw water rising three levels below them. Panicked, Anthony grabbed Edith's wrist once more to urge them along. They arrived on the second-class floor, which was completely empty.

"Where is everyone?" Edith cried out.

"On the lifeboats, where we should be. Jones is probably there; we'll find him there, I bet," Anthony replied as he turned back towards the stairwell. The water had risen almost another story when he looked down again. How could this be happening? he wondered.

They ascended the stairs with great speed and darted towards the deck. It was frenzied and chaotic, women and children crying, men trying to pull the lifeboats down. The stern of the ship had sunk so far into the water that waves were crashing upon its deck. An older man in a uniform was perched on a platform, calling out, "Women and children! Women and children first!"

Drenched and struggling for balance, Anthony grabbed Edith's shoulder with his good hand and looking directly into her eyes, sternly shouted, "Edith, listen to me. You must get on that lifeboat. Now!"

"What about you?" she asked, on the verge of tears.

"I'll find one as soon as all of the women and children have boarded."

"I am not going to leave you, Anthony!"

"It will only be for a little while. We'll meet up once we're back on dry land, hmm?"

"Anthony, I-"

But Edith never got to finish her request. A massive wave struck the stern of the boat, knocking most everyone still on board off their feet. Sliding down the deck, Anthony grabbed a handful of Edith's life vest and held on for dear life. Both were pushed up against a railing, the only thing keeping them on the ship and away from the open ocean.

"Anthony!" Edith shrieked.

"Don't worry Edith! I've got you!" Anthony shouted back, shoving his good arm through the loops on the side of Edith's life vest. Just as he began to pull the two of them up to rush to the lifeboats, the stern of the _Carmania_ took a dip back into the raging waters.

And as it did, Edith Crawley and Anthony Strallan were swept off to sea.

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A/N: Thank you for all of the great feedback for the first chapter!

If you haven't already guessed, this story is going to be dramatically less fluffy than my other stories. It will take our couple through darkest night to get to brightest dawn. For this reason, I've decided to make Edith quite angry still, resentful even, more than she is in my headcanon.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know your thoughts :)

NJB


	3. The Coconut

Anthony's grip on Edith's life vest tightened as the raging water tried to rip them apart. Because one hand was occupied and the other was paralyzed, Anthony was having the hardest time trying to stay above water. The sea and the rain kept pushing him down underneath and breathing was incredibly hard.

But the worst part was the crippling fear he felt, not of his own death, but the fear that he would be the sole cause of Edith's death, that if he had been more adamant that she get to a lifeboat, she wouldn't be stranded in the middle of the ocean with him, facing nearly certain death.

He wasn't sure how long they had been out at sea, but he was aware of how fatigued his body was, his legs especially. They were growing weary of keeping his body afloat without the help of his arms. As a result, he kept bobbing, bouncing in and out of stormy sea.

Edith, who was panicked like she never had been before, noticed Anthony duck underwater. "Anthony!" she shrieked as she pulled him up by the collar of his life vest and shook him sternly. "Anthony, don't do this! Don't give up!"

Shouting over the raging storm, Anthony cried out, "Edith, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything! My legs…they've given out…I'm so sorry!"

Edith looked down at his good hand gripped tightly around the loops of her vest and sternly pulled it away. "Here, I'll hold on to _you_. Use your good arm to help keep you afloat. We'll take turns, all right?"

"No, Edith, save your energy. Don't do this!"

"Quit being so damn honorable! If you don't listen to me, you'll die!"

Reluctantly, Anthony obliged.

After a long while, where the two of them desperately trying to stay afloat, to stay alive, the storm began to relax its hold on the sea. The waves became lighter and smaller, and the clouds dissipated. Although Edith and Anthony were relieved that they no longer had to battle a storm, a new sense of dread settled upon them: they were in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight.

"Edith, I am so sorry," Anthony whispered after a time. "I wished for you to have a fulfilling future and now, we'll both probably die out here…I should have forced you onto the lifeboat."

"Don't say that. Now is not the time for apologies. You need some rest. How about you lay back and rest for a while? I'll hold onto you, all right?"

"No, I wouldn't want to impose."

"Just go to sleep, Anthony. Please?"

Hesitantly, Anthony leaned back in the water and let the slow rocking lull him to sleep.

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Edith groggily opened her eyes. She didn't even remember falling asleep, but she must have, as the last few hours were a blur. As her vision began to adjust to the harsh morning light, Edith felt something tugging at her life vest, as though something was dragging her. She looked down at her feet, which were touching sand as white as snow.

Finally, the dragging stopped and Anthony collapsed next to her. "Edith, we made it," he sighed.

Thirsty and exhausted, Edith hoarsely asked, "Where are we?"

"I don't know, but we're on land, which is nothing short of a miracle…" Anthony managed before he succumbed to sleep.

Edith rolled over on the beach and looked at Anthony; his fair skin was horribly sunburned and beginning to peel, the tweed suit underneath the life vest, which he wore when the ship went down, was entirely soaked and clung to his body, and his hair was wet and messy.

The last thought that crossed Edith's mind before she, too, gave in to the overwhelming urge to sleep, was that she had never seen Anthony's hair wet before.

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Anthony woke up to the gentle splash of waves on his face. The sun was warm on his back and the seawater was cool on his body. It was all very peaceful and calm, that is, until Anthony jolted up, remembering where he was and what had happened.

He pushed himself up with his good arm and looked around the beach for Edith. She was still asleep on the beach within arms length, so close he could touch her. It was truly nothing short of miraculous that the two of them had survived, but then he wondered about the other souls on board the _Carmania_. Did Jones make it? Did Mrs. Milton? He hoped with everything that he had that they did.

Anthony moved closer to Edith and gently tried to rouse her from her sleep. If she was as thirsty as he was, they needed to find something to drink as soon as they could.

"Edith, darl-" Anthony caught himself before he added the endearment, remembering Edith's expressed wishes. "Edith, wake up. We need to go look for water."

But Edith did not wake; she simply moaned and stretched her limbs.

Well, I'll just have to go look by myself, Anthony decided. Since he couldn't leave Edith stranded on the beach alone, lest she wake up panicked before his return, he tenderly rolled her over and with his good arm, hoisted her onto his left shoulder. She was light and her clothes were still sopping wet, but Anthony relished the closeness of her body against his.

He walked the two of them over to a luscious patch of plants and carefully laid his love down. Hopeful to make Edith a little more comfortable, Anthony peeled his life vest over his head and useless arm, lifted Edith's head slightly, and nudged the vest under it with his knee. His tweed jacket was still too wet to use as a makeshift blanket, but he took it off anyway and laid it near her.

"I'll be back soon, Edith," Anthony whispered to her, taking in once last look of her sleeping form, of the languid rise and fall of her chest, and thanked God that she was still alive.

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Anthony had become quite good at surveying when he was in the Great War. He had a knack for identifying different types of flora and fauna, largely due to his interest in agriculture and his skill as a foxhunter.

Although he scoured the island for over an hour, Anthony found no freshwater ponds or streams. It was not a large island, but it was full of many beautiful trees and flowers, most of them unfamiliar to his English eyes. Anthony did, however, find an abundance of coconut trees. He saw some coconuts that had already fallen to the ground and knowing that he wouldn't be able to carry too many with just one arm, he began to unbutton his shirt. It was the first time in a long time that he had done that on his own, without Jones' help, and he felt a mild sense of accomplishment once he was completely divested of the garment.

He laid the shirt on the ground and started to gather coconuts into it; then, using his good arm and a spare leg, he tied the shirt into a bundle. In all, he had gathered about eight coconuts; the real trouble would come later when he would have to figure out how to open them.

Anthony returned to the temporary, makeshift campsite where he had laid Edith. When he saw that she was sitting upright, evidently awake and aware of her surroundings, Anthony immediately became self-conscious. There he was standing, not only in a state of undress in front of a lady, but his entire right shoulder, marked with brutal scars and marred flesh, was out in the open for her to see. Edith had never seen his injury, no one but Jones and his doctor had, and Anthony feared that she would find him utterly grotesque.

Timidly, he approached her and set the bundle of coconuts beside her. He untied the shirt briskly and put it on in an effort to conceal his arm.

But Edith had already seen it. She saw the pink, mangled skin and the atrophied muscle. It saddened her to see it for the first time, not because she found it ugly or hideous, but because someone as kind and gentle as Anthony had to bear it. Though she was still upset with him, angry even, he did not deserve what had happened to him. During their second courtship, Anthony kept referring to his crippled arm, often as an excuse not to marry her, despite the fact that he seemed to carry on quite well regardless. But now that she had seen it, she could understand why he was so self-conscious. Anthony was a man of integrity and honor, and the state of his arm left him, as he saw it, irreparably damaged.

Edith was about to say something, something to soothe his apparent shame and embarrassment, but instead, Anthony mumbled, "I…um, I have found some coconuts. There isn't any fresh water on the island, but we can drink from these."

Edith grabbed a coconut and examined it; she had never seen one in person before and hadn't the slightest idea how to drink from it. "Um…thank you, Anthony, but how, um, how do you drink from these exactly?"

Whether she intended to ignore his scars or not, Anthony was grateful that she made no mention of them. "Well, I have a pocket knife that I always carry, even though I can't really use it much any longer. Old habits, I suppose. But I think we better save the blade for when we really need it. Perhaps we could try a rock or something of similar hardness?"

"I saw some rocks close to the water, but they didn't look very sharp," Edith offered.

"Very keen of you!" Anthony exclaimed. "Let's go take a look."

Edith eyed him suspiciously. She hoped that Anthony didn't think anything had changed between them, because in a lot of ways, it hadn't. He had still jilted her, she was still with Michael, and there was still so much despair in her heart. Being stranded on an island with him didn't change any of that.

Still, Edith followed him to the beach, if not for the sole purpose of finding a way to extract the milk from the coconuts. She had never experienced a thirst like this before.

Wading through the water, Edith and Anthony fished around for rocks, and found a few that seemed up to the task. Retreating back to the makeshift campsite, they both gathered a few coconuts and began pounding away. Holding the coconut between his knees, Anthony's good arm swung with such force that the drupe exploded between his legs.

"Oh, damn!" he exclaimed. Gathering the remnants, he offered them to Edith. "Here, at least eat some of the flesh inside."

Edith's efforts came to a slow halt. Hesitantly, she took the coconut pieces and set them on a leaf beside her. "After we get something to drunk, hmm?"

Anthony grinned in response and went back to the pressing task at hand.

The two spent quite a long time mastering the art of properly cracking open a coconut. Anthony was a bit overeager and smashed two more coconuts, spilling their milk on the sand, while Edith had yet to break through one. Finally, after nearly forty-five minutes, Anthony punctured the top of the drupe without demolishing it.

"Edith! Edith, I did it!" he cried out excitedly.

"Anthony, that's wonderful!" she replied as she stood up, glad that their thirst was soon to be abated.

Without thinking, Anthony went up to Edith and pulled her into an embrace. "Oh, Edith," he purred. But when he did not feel Edith's arms wrap around him, but instead, her stiff body nearly recoiling to his touch, Anthony slowly backed away.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me," he apologized, looking down at his feet.

Edith had dreaded this. The two of them had been through hell in the last few days, that much was true. But she could not let him believe that she wanted anything more than mere acquaintanceship with him.

"Anthony, I hope you understand that while we are here on this island, I don't want you to be under the impression that we will…take up again together. You firmly put an end to whatever was between us at the church two years ago. I have moved on, I have someone back at home, and although you and I need each other to survive, I don't really need you in any other capacity in my life. I hope I have made myself clear…"

Anthony looked like he had been wounded and for all intensive purposes, he had. And what really hurt was that this was his own doing; he left Edith, set her free so that she would feel precisely this way, that is, not in love with him any longer.

"Oh, of…of course. I apologize for my conduct. It won't happen again," he mumbled sadly. Then, handing the coconut to Edith, he said, "You should have the first one."

Edith took it from him and watched as Anthony sat down and despondently started to crack open another coconut.

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A/N: Thank you so much for all of the great response to the last chapter! My little heart is beaming :)

As for this chapter, it clearly ended on a sad note, but keep in mind, these two have a lot of things to work through…like _a lot! _ Anyway, these dark days will only last so long.

Let me know your thoughts on this chapter, if you'd like!

NJB


	4. The News

"What do you mean, 'it went down?'" Cora Crawley asked frantically.

"The American Coast Guard is doing a search and rescue, but they said that because of the storm, it doesn't look good. The odds of surviving a storm like that are slim. They said that our middle daughter is likely…dead," Robert choked on the words as he said them, his heart heavy and aching.

Cora's legs could no longer hold her up; she collapsed onto the floor, bawling unreservedly, while Robert rushed to kneel at her side.

"It's our fault, Robert! We made her get on that ship!" she shrieked, tears staining her cheeks. Her husband tried to console her, but he, too, was devastated. It was his idea to send Edith away after he learned about her relationship with the editor.

Pulling his wife into an embrace, Robert Crawley held his wife for the longest time, unsure of what to say, not only to her, but to himself, as well. How could he live with himself after this? To lose two daughters, whose deaths were largely caused, if not directly, by himself; well it was simply unfathomable.

While Lord and Lady Grantham mourned and wept in their bedchamber, the downstairs was equally somber. Sitting in the servants' dining hall during luncheon, John Bates whispered to his wife, "Apparently, Lady Edith and only one other passenger disappeared; everyone else made it onto lifeboats or were rescued afterwards."

"Poor Lady Edith," Anna mumbled numbly. "She was so young and full of life. I just cannot believe she's gone. First Lady Sybil, then Mr. Crawley, and now her…

Knowing his wife was the last in the house to see her alive, John rubbed her arm tenderly. "I know she considered you a great friend, Anna."

"And she, mine," Anna said with a sad smile on her face.

"Apparently, the other passenger was from Yorkshire, too," Alfred interjected, oblivious to Anna's heartache. "Yeah, I overheard the lawyer say something to his lordship about it. They have to notify family and his estate, but they should release the name rather soon."

A curt, stern clearing of the throat from Mr. Carson put Alfred in his place and luncheon continued on, albeit quieter and more sorrowful than usual.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Here, grab this branch," Anthony told Edith. "Quickly!"

Edith rushed over and took the branch from his hand, holding it in place. "Okay, I'm going to pull this rope and once I do, tie the joints together as tightly as you can, all right?" he asked her.

Nodding her response, Edith steeled herself for the exertion to come. The branch was pulled upwards by the levy Anthony had constructed and she rapidly tied the rope made from leaf stems around the joints, as per Anthony's instructions. Looking at their handiwork, Edith exclaimed, "It's perfect! A proper island home."

Anthony had designed a large tepee of sorts using long fallen branches as the frame and thick palm leaves as the covering. Although he could barely stand at full height inside of it, Anthony decided it would be perfect for Edith. "Well, a lady needs a proper dwelling, doesn't she?"

Edith walked inside of the tepee and paused. "Where will you sleep, Anthony?"

Mildly surprised by her question, Anthony mumbled, "Oh, I, um, well I hadn't really thought of it. I suppose I could just sleep out here." In truth, he had been so caught up getting Edith what she needed, Anthony had neglected to gather enough supplies to make a tepee of his own. It would take another day or so to get them, and at least another for Edith to make the rope.

Edith considered her options. While she didn't want to give Anthony the wrong impression, she couldn't very well let the man sleep outside, not when he had gone to such great lengths to help her. "How about, for the time being, that is, you stay in here with me? There's room for two, I believe. After a goodnight's sleep, we can get some supplies for your own tent tomorrow."

"Oh, no, Edith, that would be highly improper," Anthony blurted out. Despite their proximity, the proper gentleman inside Anthony was having a hard time reconciling how _much_ of Edith he had seen in the last few days. Her clothes had been drenched when he took her off the beach, revealing every delicious curve of her form; in the heat of midday, she would take her jumper off to reveal the soft, freckled skin of her shoulders exposed by her sleeveless blouse; and at night she would curl up in the sand on her stomach with one leg hitched up, causing her body to arch in a way that stirred Anthony in ways he couldn't help.

"Don't be daft, Anthony," she retorted. "We've been sleeping next to each other for the past four nights. What difference does it make if it's underneath the covering of a tent?"

She had a point. "I suppose you're right," he admitted, noticing her satisfied smirk. "Just until I get mine set up. For now, how about you get the fire started and I'll go catch some fish?"

"Sounds good," Edith agreed as the two went off to complete their tasks. As strained as things had been since Edith put Anthony in his place, telling him she wanted nothing more than mere acquaintanceship, the two had nevertheless developed a system that worked to both of their strengths.

Edith would build the fire each night. After Anthony instructed her how to do it, she learned that it was a task best suited to the use of two functioning arms. While she busied herself with the fire, Anthony would wade around in the water spearfishing with a stick he had shaved down into a fantastic spear. He only needed one good arm to do that anyway and he had a keen eye for spotting fish. In the mornings, Edith would bathe in the ocean while Anthony scoured the island for more coconuts. They saved the empty shells and laid them out in the open to collect rainwater, but as it had yet to rain, Anthony went out in search of the drapes every single day.

Hours passed and Anthony came back with more fish than he ever had before, six in total. Holding his spear up proudly, he called out to Edith as he approached the campsite, "Dinner's here!"

Famished, Edith ran up to him and counted the fish. "What a feast!" she said delightedly.

A shy silence followed and Edith's eyes darted up to meet Anthony's, and for a brief moment in time, they simply stared at each other. Brown met blue and each crinkled into a small smile.

What are you doing? Edith internally chastised herself. Look away! Remember how he hurt you!

Edith quickly darted her eyes to the side and turned to face the fire. "I'll cook those if you're hungry now."

Slowly exhaling the breath he had been holding in, Anthony replied, "Yes, thank you." For a brief moment when Edith was staring at him and standing so closely, Anthony felt like perhaps Edith wanted more than acquaintanceship with him. But no! he thought to himself. You're imagining things yet again, you old fool.

Dinner was a quiet, awkward affair. Little was spoken, but glances were stolen and each chided themselves internally. Darkness soon settled on the island and the only sound was the quiet crashing of waves on the beach.

"I'll think I'll turn in," Edith told him with a yawn as she stood up from the log she had been sitting on.

"So will I," he replied. Anxiously, Anthony walked into the tent with Edith and crouched down. Their life vests now served as pillows and each used jackets or sweaters as blankets. The fire, which wasn't too far from the tent, warmed their feet and cast a soft, golden glow on the leafy walls of the tepee.

"Thank you for making this," Edith said after a while. "It's far better than sleeping out in the open. It feels homey."

"It was my pleasure, Edith," Anthony replied gently.

Edith rolled over on her other side so that she faced Anthony and stared at him as if forming a question. His whole body tensed and his pulse quickened, but Edith seemed oblivious to the affect she had on him.

"What did you do? After…that day, I mean," she finally asked.

Sadly, Anthony told her about the wretched life to which he had condemned himself. "I went back to Locksley and I, um…I have pretty much stayed there since, taking care of my tenants and running the estate. I couldn't risk running into you in the village."

"You couldn't bear to see me _that _much?" she asked, but Anthony couldn't tell if her voice had quivered with sadness or anger.

"Oh, no! That's not what I meant. I mean that I didn't want to cause further embarrassment for you."

"Right, because you caused _just_ enough. Any more than that would have been in bad taste, wouldn't it?" she snapped.

Anthony felt his heart lurch. "Oh, Edith, I am so sorry…"

Ignoring his apology, Edith pressed on. "Did you regret it?"

Before Anthony could tell her that he regretted it every moment of every day, Edith answered for him. "No, of course you don't. That's why you haven't been to see me in two years, not even after Sybil or Matthew died. I don't know why I even asked. I don't want to talk about any longer."

Rolling over away from him, Edith promptly ended their discussion.

Anthony continued to look at her back, wiping away tears from his face with his good hand. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Anthony willed himself to fall asleep, if only to escape the pain he was feeling in the moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The fresh morning light tickled Anthony's face and invited him to start the day anew. Slowly, he roused from a restless slumber and rubbed his eyes. As his vision came into focus and he looked around the tent, he realized that Edith was nowhere to be seen. Leaving the tent, Anthony checked all of the usual places: the campsite near the fire, the small bay where they bathed and fished, and the trail of coconut trees nearby. But Edith was still nowhere to be seen.

Fear began to brim inside of Anthony. "Edith!" he called out, cupping his hand to his mouth. "Edith, where are you?"

Expanding his search across the island, Anthony kept calling Edith's name, growing ever more fearful that something terrible had happened to her. And to add to that, he could barely stomach the thought that their conversation the night before had ended so badly. He knew how much pain he had caused and wholly believed that Edith would never want him back in her life. Being stuck on this island was horrible for both of them: for Edith, Anthony believed it meant the constant presence of one most unwelcomed and for himself, it was the constant presence of one who loathed him, while he loved her.

Rushing past the flora, batting it out of his way, Anthony pressed on further into the deeper parts of the tropical forest, a place he had not yet been. "Edith! Are you out here?" he shouted.

If his senses hadn't been on high alert, Anthony would have continued walking and ignored the terrified whimper that came near his feet. Halting abruptly, the hairs on the back of neck stood up and he turned down and saw Edith lying on the ground, bloody and wincing in pain.

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A/N: So, a bit of a cliffhanger, but fear not! The next chapter is already in the works and should be up rather soon. Thank you for all of the great response to the last few chapters! I hope you're enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it!

Anyway, let me know your thoughts if you can spare the time :)

NJB


	5. The Wound

A/N: Thank you so much for the wonderful responses to the last chapter! I felt badly for leaving you fine people on the cliff like that, so I tried to get this chapter out as soon as I could. As such, it's a little on the shorter side, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Let me know your thoughts if you can spare the time :)

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"Edith, oh God!" Anthony shouted as he rushed to her side. "What happened, darling?" he demanded, not bothering to correct himself for adding such an endearment.

With tears welling up in her big brown eyes, Edith explained through small sobs, "I, I went for a walk to clear my head about our talk last night and…I tripped and fell on a sharp rock." She pointed down to her left calf. It was bloody and red and mangled. Her hands, too, were scraped and bleeding.

"Oh, my dear. Can you walk?"

Shaking her head, Edith whimpered, "I don't think so. I'm so sorry, Anthony."

"Don't worry about that, Edie. Let's just get you out of here, hmm?"

Wrapping his good arm around her waist, Anthony hoisted them up, tenderly took a few steps forward, and asked, "How are you faring?"

"I don't know. It hurts so badly," she cried, her injured leg recoiling away from the ground.

"Well, that just won't do," he said before using what strength he had in his good arm to lift Edith entirely off the ground and quickly rush back to their campsite. Once they reached it, Anthony laid Edith down in the tent and used his life vest as a second pillow to prop her head up.

Reaching into his the pocket of his trousers, Anthony urgently pulled out his seldom-used pocketknife. Prying the blade out with his teeth, he then sliced a strip of fabric from his shirtsleeve. "Can you tie this around your leg? Tie it just below the knee…very tightly. This should slow the bleeding down."

Edith timidly nodded, took the fabric from him, and did as instructed. Then, Anthony cut another, larger piece of fabric and covered her wound with it.

"Press this tightly. We want to get the bleeding to stop as soon as possible. I'm going to go fetch some saltwater; it's the closest thing we have to an antiseptic. I'll be back as soon as I can, all right?"

"Please hurry," Edith whimpered.

With a scared smile, Anthony darted off towards the sea. He snatched an empty coconut shell and dunked it into the water. Then, in a near sprint, he arrived back at the tent and kneeled at Edith's side once more. Seeing that the bleeding was starting to subside, he inched closer to her leg.

"I'm not sure if this will sting, but it should help clean the wound and speed the healing along," Anthony explained. Then, grabbing her exposed and bloody leg, he extended it and brought it closer to him. Anthony, while trying hard to concentrate on the task at hand, was finding it difficult when he realized he had never touched Edith in such an intimate place before.

"Here it goes," he announced before he poured the saltwater onto Edith's calf. She winced and sharply inhaled at the contact of the water on her wound, but after a few moments, the pain subsided and she felt sweet relief.

Looking up, Edith saw Anthony looking on with the greatest concern. His eyes kept scanning her, looking out for any sign of distress. "Better now?" he asked.

"Yes, much. Thank you, Anthony. I don't know how I wouldn't have gotten back if you hadn't found me and carried me here."

"It was largely my fault anyway," he mumbled.

"It what way?" she asked, utterly confused.

"I made you upset last night during our conversation. That was the reason you felt you needed to clear your head, wasn't it?"

Edith hesitated a moment before responding, considering his reasoning. True, she was upset with him, more upset with him than she had ever been with another person after what he had done that fateful day. But that was so long ago; did she really have a right to hate him forever? Now, here he was kneeling in front of her with patches and sleeves missing from his shirt; without a second thought, he ripped apart what little clothing he had left for her sake. Sacrificing of himself what he could just as he had done that day in the church, only that time, it wasn't his shirt, but his heart.

"Um, well, in part. I had a lot to think about really, not just our conversation."

Pouring some more saltwater on the wound, Anthony tried casually to ask, "Might I inquire what was on your mind that led you so far away?"

"I was just thinking about what I've done since…well, since our wedding," she cautiously explained. "I think it's time that I tell you something…about what I've done."

Anthony's pulse quickened and his mind reeled. "What could you have done? You're too kind and lovely to do something terrible."

Edith managed a weak, embarrassed smile. "But you're wrong. When you left, you said that you wanted me to find some young, whole man with his life ahead of him…but the war didn't send many of those men back home. I didn't have queues of men lining up to court me…I had only one."

There it is, Anthony thought, what I've dreaded all along. She has found someone, someone better than I am no doubt.

"Well, I wish you both the greatest happiness," Anthony grunted as began to stand.

"No, wait!" Edith pleaded. "Please, let me finish. Sit down, Anthony?"

Slowly, Anthony obliged and sat down in the sand once again, feeling terribly uncomfortable.

Edith pressed on. "The man, the only one who has tried to court me since you left, he's my editor at the _Sketch_, Michael Gregson. In a lot of ways, he reminds me of you: he's tall, smiles a lot like you, and he is kind to me."

"He sounds like a nice chap," Anthony muttered sadly, avoiding eye contact as the love of his life told him about hers.

"He's married," Edith told him suddenly.

Anthony's bright blue eyes snapped up to catch Edith's brown ones. "Married?" he whispered painfully. "He's married?"

Edith ashamedly nodded her head. "Michael asked me to…to become his mistress. At the time, I was seriously considering his offer. It was unlikely that the whole, young man you wanted for me would ever show up and it felt so good to be cared for, to feel someone's affection and praise. That's why I was put on the _Carmania_ to visit my grandmother in Florida. My parents found about our relationship and in an attempt to make me end it, they sent me away to America."

Anthony could believe what he was hearing. "You were going to accept, to become this man's mistress? Even knowing the risks?" he asked.

"I didn't care. You left me with nothing, Anthony. No husband, no love, no future," Edith told him, feeling her anger beginning to bubble within her once more.

Anthony's jaw trembled as he tried to find the words to respond to Edith. "I only wanted what was best for you, I always have. You didn't deserve to be tied down with some old codger, Edith."

"You were daft then and you're daft now!" Edith reproached him, her eyes glistening with angry tears. "You had no right to make such a decision for me!" Listening to his same old excuses had struck a nerve with her.

There was a long silence in which Anthony sat in the sand, trying to come up with something to say that would convince Edith that he had been right. But upon hearing that Edith intended to become that man's mistress, Anthony was mortified. That is not what he had set her free to do.

Finally, Anthony softly spoke, "Edith, I am sorry. I can't apologize enough for what I did to hurt you. But now, you need to rest. You've sustained a nasty injury and should get some sleep. I'll let you be for now and tonight, I'll sleep outside the tent…let me know if you need anything."

He stood up, brushed the sand off of his pants, and walked towards the opening in the tepee. Before exiting, Anthony paused and turned around to look Edith in the eye.

"I know you're angry Edith, but please know, letting you go was quite literally the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Nothing can compare. I don't deserve you…you far too good and lovely for the love of someone so marred and hopeless as I."

With a sad lopsided grin, Anthony turned and left Edith alone in the tepee, gaping at his words.


	6. The Rain

With Edith resting inside the tepee, recovering from her injury, Anthony busied himself with tasks that had long been put off, anything to take his mind off of what hand transpired between them. He gathered some logs, brought them to the shore, and arranged them to say, "HELP," in the unlikely event that a ship would pass by and rescue them.

Then, he dug a large hole in the ground, far away from the trees, a task made far more difficult than it should have been given the use of only one good arm. Realizing that the coconut supply on the island was not infinite and they had already been stranded for almost a week with no rain, Anthony decided that when rain did come, they would need to collect as much as they could. Lining the deep hole with thick leaves that he layered, Anthony stood back, his arm burning and aching, and proudly admired the handiwork of his water basin.

Then, walking back to the campsite, hopeful not to wake Edith, Anthony reclined his sore body in the sand and prepared for a long, well-earned nap. Darkness would soon follow and perhaps this nap would turn into something more.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Anthony Strallan?" Robert Crawley shouted as he threw his newspaper down on the dining room table. "The other passenger to disappear was Anthony Strallan!"

Carson, the butler, nearly dropped the tray he was holding at the news. "Milord, I don't mean to presume, but you don't think…that he and Lady Edith…disappeared together? I believe she would have been terribly distressed to see him after what he did to her and this family."

Distractedly, Robert murmured some vague agreement. Then, he tossed his napkin aside and left in search of his wife. Meanwhile, Carson went to downstairs to tell Mrs. Hughes. Daisy, the kitchen maid, overheard their conversation and after she told Thomas, the entire downstairs staff heard the latest gossip like wildfire.

"Cora…Cora, you won't believe who the other passenger was," Robert said as he entered his wife's room. Cora was sitting up in bed with her breakfast tray across her lap, a forlorn look on her face, as though she was about to be sick.

"It was Sir Anthony Strallan," she muttered.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"It was in my paper this morning. Apparently the death of our daughter and her ex-fiancé makes for hot gossip among journalists," Cora said bitterly, not making eye contact with her husband.

"Oh, my dear," Robert whispered as he made his way to the bed, gathering Cora's now weeping form into his arms. "We'll get through this, Cora. We have to be strong…for Edith's sake. We must cling to the hope that she is still alive."

Cora weakly nodded before succumbing to more violent sobs.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The heavy pitter-patter of raindrops on the leafy walls of the tepee roused Edith from a deep sleep. Slowly she sat up and felt a sharp sting originate from her injured calf. Immediately, her thoughts turned to Anthony and how he had saved her and tended to her. And then, how he told her that he still loved her, that she was too good for the love of someone as damaged as he. Edith suspected that perhaps, despite how his actions might have proven otherwise, Anthony had loved her all along…

Looking to the side of the tepee that Anthony usually occupied, Edith found herself disappointed that he wasn't there and then, she immediately grew concerned that he was somewhere outside the tepee braving the storm. Cautiously standing up on her injured leg, Edith hobbled outside and started to call Anthony's name, but suddenly stopped.

She didn't have to venture very far to find him.

Lying on the sand near her tepee, Anthony's clothes were soaked through and he was attempting to use a large leaf to cover himself from the rain.

"Anthony, please come inside! You'll catch a cold!" Edith pleaded.

"Edith, I'm sorry!" Anthony said, his voice strained as though he was fighting back sobs.

"Please come inside!" she shouted through the rain. "Don't make me come over there and get wet…"

Operating on whatever sort of gentlemanly behavior he had left, Anthony stood up and walked inside the tepee. Once underneath the protection of the leafy walls, the pair stood staring at one another and Edith suddenly realized just how much her hands ached to run along Anthony's chest, firm underneath his wet shirt.

"Thank yo-" Anthony began.

"I wish we had more clothes so you could get out of those and into some dry ones," Edith interrupted.

"It's quite all right, Edith," he replied quietly. "I've had all day to think on what happened today and I wanted to say that I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't…I shouldn't have-"

But Edith interrupted him again. "No, Anthony. You should have. You needed to say it, just as I needed to hear it. I've been stubborn and obstinate, not seeing that you truly felt that you did what was right. I have been confused about that day for two years, but I realized today that you have been heartbroken just as long. I'll never agree with what you did, but even still, I am the one who needs to apologize…for being so cold to you."

"You don't need to apologize, Edith. I just wanted to do right by you…and that meant not tying you down with some crippled up old codger."

"But you see, you're not a crippled old codger! Look around us: _you _designed and helped build this tent we're in, keeping us safe and dry from the storm._ You _rescued me and tended my wound. _You_ catch us fish each day and _you_ get us coconuts to drink from. You're not as crippled as you like to think you are, Anthony."

Even amidst the loud, pounding rain, Anthony could hear the encouraging tone in Edith's voice. "You are unfailingly kind," Anthony managed despite his quickened pulse and increased respiration.

Edith could feel her fingers twitching as they longed to reach up and touch him. She almost couldn't believe how her body was betraying her and yet, it felt unbelievably right. Just as her arm was about to extend to touch him, a thundering crack of lightning lit up the confines of the tent and almost instantly, the spell seemed to break. Edith cleared her throat and muttered, "Well, we should probably try to get some rest, don't you think?"

"Yes, you…you're right," Anthony conceded, trying to ignore the ache in his heart. Sitting down in the sand under the protection of the leafy tent, Anthony began to unbutton his wet shirt so as to lay it out to dry, surprisingly, not as self-conscious about his injured arm as he once was. As he did this, Edith glanced over and at the sight of Anthony undressing, the spell seemed to cast its grip on her once again. Suddenly as she rolled over, Edith became all too aware of how small the tepee seemed, how close Anthony was, and how much she longed to be nearer to him.

"Anthony…" Edith whispered longingly, hoping at the same time that he would and wouldn't hear her.

Hearing his name escape her lips in such a way, Anthony's attention turned to the woman lying on her side next to him. "What is it, Edith? Is everything all right?"

"It is…it's just that I'm, well…"

"You're what?"

"I'm…cold," she lied.

"Oh," he said, somewhat surprised. It was unlikely that Edith was cold; the island was constantly sweltering. Still, her little white lie warmed his heart and made it swell with excitement. She wanted him close to her and he was more than happy to oblige. "If you don't…if you don't mind, I could just…"

Edith could hear Anthony scooting closer in the sand and when she felt his left hand on her left shoulder, her whole body felt electric. She nodded her head approvingly, giving permission for Anthony to move in even closer. In a moment, his whole body was against Edith's back and his arm slowly reached around her waist to pull her even closer.

Anthony released a shuddering sigh and Edith felt his warm breath on the back of her neck. They had never been so close before, not just physically, but so trusting and intimate as well. Edith pressed her body nearer to his and heard a small groan escape Anthony's throat.

"I don't feel as cold now…thank you for that," Edith told him. The heavy rain had relented and was now just a soft trickle of drops on their tepee.

"I'm happy I could oblige," Anthony replied. In truth, he could not believe the turn of events. Oh, how Fortuna had intervened in their lives and brought them here, in this tent in the middle of a rainstorm, holding each other so tightly.

Anthony couldn't help himself; he inched his face closer to Edith and reverently placed a delicate kiss on the back of her neck, his lips lingering longer than even he thought proper. Edith gasped faintly and rolled around in his embrace. For a very long moment, they simply stared at each other, eyes moving from eyes to lips and back again.

Before propriety could tell him not to, Anthony brushed Edith's lips with his own. He brought his hand up to cup her face and then, his fingers laced their way into her messy curls. It was Edith who deepened their kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her, as though he couldn't be close enough. The prickly blond beard that had grown on Anthony's face since they had become stranded would have tickled Edith, but she was far too caught up with the movement of his lips against hers.

As Edith began to run her fingers through his chest hair, Anthony suddenly became cognizant of where they were headed, of where his heart and his body were leading them. Slowly, he eased the intensity of his kisses and ended it with a kiss on her forehead.

"Oh, Edith…" Anthony moaned. "I love you." His declaration was firm and unwavering, as though he now had all the conviction he lacked two years ago.

"I love you, too, Anthony. I have never stopped loving you, not even after that day. I was angry, but I have always loved you."

"I haven't stopped loving you either. I love you so much, my heart aches."

Grinning, Edith nestled her head against Anthony's chest and placed a kissed on his belly. "You're a wonderful man," she sighed. "I don't ever want to let you go."

"I won't let you, Edie," he replied, wrapping his good arm around her tightly.

After a time, their heavy breaths slowed into a languid cadence and the two drifted into a well-earned slumber, their bodies close and their limbs tangled.

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A/N: Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites! I've been reading the STEAMM stories with such delight. Everyone has done such a fantastic job! Fellowes can't bring us down!

A quick note on the progression of this story: our couple isn't out of the woods yet…there is still a major curveball coming their way.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this installment…let me know your thoughts if you'd like! I'd sure like to hear them :)

NJB


	7. The Tokens

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful response for the last chapter! In this installment, the story starts off rather fluffy and lovey-dovey, but there is a plot twist at the end, so stick with it! Enjoy!

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"Are you as hungry as I am?" Anthony asked as he looked down at Edith, draped over his body.

Curls unkempt and a mischievous grin on her face, Edith looked up from Anthony's chest and nodded. "I suppose that means you'll have to go fishing, doesn't it?"

"Oh, but that means I'll have to leave you here…_all alone_," Anthony teased, pretending to pout.

Edith burrowed her head against his chest and protested, "Nope! We'll just have to stay here a little longer."

Anthony looked down at his love; the bright morning light was peaking through the opening in their tent, dancing around the walls and on their skin. Surely this was a dream, he thought. Surely, Edith wasn't nestled against him, flirting with him, caressing him. He had had many a dream like this and it always ended with him awake in his bed at Locksley, utterly and painfully alone. But this? This felt so real and so authentic that Anthony had to believe that it wasn't just a dream.

"I like the way you think, Edie," Anthony told her. "Always so brilliant."

Satisfied, Edith closed her eyes and began to trace circles on Anthony's side with her finger. After a time, Anthony grunted and hastily stood up. Avoiding eye contact, he embarrassingly mumbled something about catching that fish now and Edith couldn't help but laugh. Although he was a gentleman in so many ways, for all intensive purposes, Anthony Strallan was also a man, and a man being caressed by the woman he loves tends to react in certain, unmistakable ways.

Grinning, knowing that she had such an effect on him, Edith stepped outside of the tent to start the fire. Every once in a while, she would glance up at the sight of Anthony wading in the water with a spear in his good hand. Anthony, too, would look up towards Edith on the beach, skilfully preparing the fire. They worked so well together, each of them complementing what the other lacked, and Anthony wondered why he had never seen this before.

He caught four fish that day, nothing bountiful, but sustenance nonetheless. After cooking them over the open flame, the pair ate in silence cut with giggles and longing looks. Once they had their fill, Anthony asked, "Fancy a swim? The water is cool enough still."

Edith eyed him curiously. They hadn't any swim clothes, but she agreed anyway. They stripped down to their skivvies, Edith clothed in her slip and Anthony in just his drawers, and ran into the ocean.

Splashing each other with the seawater, Edith and Anthony frolicked about and after they were thoroughly soaked, Anthony paddled through the waves, swept Edith up in his good arm, and pulled her down into the water with him.

"Anthony!" she shrieked, impishly slapping his chest.

"Can't a man have a little fun with the woman he loves?" he asked as he began to tickle her.

As Edith and Anthony romped about in the water, they seemed to forget that they were stranded on an island with little to no hope of leaving, they seemed to forget about the comforts they left behind in England, and most importantly, they seemed to forget about their marred past and the pain that once existed between them.

All they could think about was each other and the love that had rekindled between them, as though it had never left.

The pair spent almost the entire day swimming and lounging around the beach, save for the occasional trip back to shore for a drink of newly-collected freshwater or some coconut flesh they had saved up. It was the happiest day on the island since they had arrived, and perhaps, the happiest day either could remember.

Returning back to their campsite as the sun began to fall in the sky, Edith and Anthony nearly collapsed on the sand inside their tepee in a fit of giggles. Their hair was still sopping, they were both scantly clad, and their breaths were labored from the run back.

As their respiration began to slow, Anthony's eyes caught Edith's and he saw a sparkle of desire flicker in them. She inched closer to him and faintly touched his chest. Then, slowly, her hand migrated around his neck and she began to play with his hair.

Anthony opened his mouth to object, but Edith reached up and placed her lips on his before he had the chance. Her kiss was like honey, Anthony thought, smooth and sweet. He responded with great earnest, his good hand running along her waist and her hips possessively. Edith moaned into his mouth and pulled at Anthony's back and shoulders so that he was on top of her, making her intentions quite clear.

"Oh, Edith," Anthony whispered as he nuzzled at her ear and devoured her neck. "Oh, Edith will you marry me?"

All of Edith's amorous movements halted at once. Anthony, too, stopped moving and looked at Edith, terrified that he had ruined whatever it was that they had regained.

"I'm sorr-" he began.

"You want to marry me?" Edith interrupted. Anthony nodded. "But we haven't a vicar."

Anthony rolled off of Edith in an attempt to compose himself. "I know we don't have a vicar, but I still want to marry you, to make right what I ruined two years ago. We could make vows to each other, in front of God, try to make a proper wedding out of it. Edith, we probably won't ever get off this island and I can't wait on the off chance that we do to make you my wife. That is, if you still want to be my wife…"

Edith laughed heartily and Anthony became confused. "What's so funny?" he asked nervously, worried that his proposal was terribly foolish.

"You are! You think that I don't want to be your wife? You must be blind, Anthony," she replied.

Relief washed over him. "You…you really want to marry me? Even after what I did, after all this time?" 

"_Especially_ after all this time," Edith said firmly, grabbing Anthony's hand and lacing her fingers through his. "We have wasted far too long ignoring what we both knew to be true: that we're meant for each other. I'm not sure if I believe in fate or not, but I don't think it was mere coincidence that we happened to board the same ship, get washed away to sea, and land here together. Perhaps something or someone is trying to tell us something…"

A small, lopsided grin appeared on Anthony's face. "I do believe you're right, my sweet one," he conceded willingly. "So, tomorrow, how about we make it official? We could gather flowers and line the tepee, exchange vows, the whole works!"

"Certainly not the wedding I always envisioned, but do you know what? I think it sounds perfect, Anthony. But what about wedding rings? Perhaps we could make some out of some stems?"

Anthony shook his head. "No, those will wilt quickly. The only possession I have, besides my clothes, is my pocketknife. I could give that to you…"

Edith beamed widely. It was fitting, she thought, that he would offer her his pocketknife, the tool he used to rip up his clothes when she was injured, a perfect symbol of his sacrifice.

"I have this locket that Mama gave me for my first season, the only season I had before I met you. She said it would help me find true love…and it did. I could give this to you," she offered as she twiddled the locket in her fingers.

"I couldn't ask for a better symbol of your love," Anthony told her. "So it's settled then? Tomorrow morning, we'll get married on the beach."

"I cannot wait…husband," Edith said with a smirk.

Anthony chuckled and pulled Edith close to his body as he settled the two of them in the sand. "I can't either, my dear wife."

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The next day, late in the morning, Edith Crawley and Anthony Strallan stood facing each other, holding hands, on the beach at their impromptu wedding ceremony. They had taken extra care getting ready: Anthony had tried to assemble his tweed suit, what was left of it anyway, and Edith had tropical flowers laced in her hair and in a bouquet in her hands. They were in a fit of laughter, but there wasn't a hint of nervousness to them for words they were about to say, but rather, for the love they would make afterwards.

"Edith," Anthony began as he placed the pocketknife into her hand. "I have been in love with you since our first drive together. You were so bright, inquisitive, and sensitive, and I knew from the moment I dropped you off back at Downton, that I was hopelessly in love. Edith, I promise to be true to you always, and do all that I can to protect and comfort you. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. Please take this pocketknife as a sign of my love and fidelity."

Smiling widely, Edith unlatched her locket from her neck and placed it in Anthony's good hand. "Anthony, although time, war, and my family have separated us far too many times, we have managed to come back to each other each time. I believe that it's because you and I are truly meant for each other. My heart is tied to yours and I believe it always has been. I will always love you, always seek to make you happy, and always be faithful to you. I will love you till my dying breath. Please, take this locket as a sign of my love and fidelity."

Once all was said and done, Anthony proclaimed, "I may now kiss the bride," and scooped a giggling Edith up into his good arm, and firmly planted a kiss on his wife's lips.

Hand in hand, the pair walked back up to the campsite where they were to enjoy their wedding feast: crabs that Anthony had miraculously caught earlier that morning and extra helpings of coconut milk. But the look in Edith's brown eyes told Anthony that feasting on food was not on her mind.

Dodging the fire and logs, Anthony and Edith eagerly darted into the tepee, which was lined with dozens of fragrant tropical flowers, of every color and size imaginable. They collapsed in the middle of the tent and between kisses, they quickly began divesting each other of what little clothing they had on.

Just as Edith was pulling Anthony's trousers off, she heard an unfamiliar, distant noise. "Did you hear that?" she asked her new husband.

But Anthony was preoccupied with tasting his wife's skin, kissing and licking underneath her right ear. "Mmm, no darling, I didn't. It was probably just a small animal, nothing to fret."

Becoming intoxicated with the work Anthony was doing on her ear, Edith agreed. "You're right," she managed before she brought his lips to hers. Feeling her husband's unmistakable reaction near her thigh, Edith grinned coyly.

Their breaths became labored and Edith's body wanted to move and arch in that ancient way known to all. But as she started to, she heard the unfamiliar noise once again. Stopping, she said more ardently, "Anthony, did you hear that?"

This time, Anthony had heard it. "I did, but again darling, it's probably nothing." Resuming his kissing endeavors, Anthony ignored the noise.

But as Anthony was about to peel Edith's slip from her body, a loud, American voice pierced through their heavy breathing and shouted, "Mr. Strallan! Miss Crawley! We're the American Coast Guard and we're here to rescue you!"

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A/N: So, game changer! Edith and Anthony are no longer in their own little world anymore. Now, their relationship will have to brave the world once again, but this time, is it strong enough to last?

Let me know your thoughts! I'd love to hear them :)

NJB


	8. The Hospital

A/N: Well, after the Anthony-less Season 4 premiere of Downton Abbey, I decided I needed to get this chapter out ASAP to help ease the pain of Lack-of-Anthony-itis. I hope you enjoy it :)

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Cora Crawley sat on the sofa in Downton's library trying to busy herself with needlepoint while her husband sat at his desk, staring blankly out the window. Their days had passed like this since learning of the shipwreck, filled with melancholy and pessimism; the servants knew to stay away and even Mary kept her distance.

So when Carson burst through the library's doors, both Robert and Cora snapped to attention.

"What is it, Carson?" Robert asked eagerly.

"Milord, there is a phone call for you. An Ensign Parker calling," Carson replied as both Lord and Lady Grantham rushed towards the hallway where the telephone was located.

Robert picked the phone up with trembling hands. "This is Lord Grantham speaking."

The American voice on the other line was unsure of how to respond. "Um, Mr. Grantham, I mean Mr. Crawley," he started. "I am Ensign Parker with the United States Coast Guard. I have some pleasing news for you."

Robert's face beamed and Cora, upon seeing her husband's reaction, nearly fell to the floor. Carson had to help hold her up.

"You've found my daughter?" Robert asked excitedly.

"We did, sir. We have found both her and Mr. Strallan off an island about a hundred miles from where the _Carmania_ went down. They are both being treated for wounds, malnourishment, and dehydration aboard our vessel, but we recommend that your daughter be admitted to a hospital in Miami for further tests and treatment."

"Thank God she's alive! I'm so glad to hear this!" Robert nearly shouted.

"As are we, sir. But sir, there is something else we felt compelled to tell you."

Robert's jubilation faded at the ensign's tone. "And what is that?"

"Well, first, your daughter sustained a nasty injury to her leg. She has a mild infection and will require stitches and monitoring."

"Well, that is not as bad as I thought it would be."

"There's more, sir. She and Mr. Strallan had made a makeshift tent and when we arrived on the island, we found the two of them inside of the tent engaging in…or at least about to engage in…relations," the ensign told him, trying to choose his words carefully as he told this father about his daughter's activities.

"She what?" Robert bellowed angrily.

The ensign tried to ignore Lord Grantham's reaction. "For the meantime, they are housed in separate quarters and when we make port, Mr. Strallan will be free to go, while your daughter will require further hospitalization. If you care to make the journey to the States, I'd be happy to give you the address of the hospital in Miami where she will be staying."

Distractedly, Robert mumbled an agreement and handed the phone back over to Carson so he could write the address down.

As if in a trance, Robert shuffled back to the peace of his library with Cora at his heels.

"Robert? Robert! What's going on? Isn't Edith alive and safe?"

Taking a seat on the sofa, Robert finally looked his wife in the eye. "Edith was rescued with Strallan. Apparently, they were stranded on the island together and when the Coast Guard found them, they were about to…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"About to what, Robert?" Cora pleaded.

"About to…engage in relations."

Cora gasped and her jaw dropped. "They what? How could this be? Sir Anthony left Edith heartbroken; I thought she hated him."

"Apparently not," Robert replied bitterly. "Or perhaps he forced himself on her?"

"No, I don't think he would do that, he's too much of a gentleman."

"Not in my book, he isn't, Cora. Not after he proposed to our daughter, got her all excited and happy, and left her at the altar in front of all of our friends and family. A gentleman doesn't do that," he argued as he crossed the room for a glass of scotch.

"Well, aren't we going to go to collect her? I need to see my baby, Robert," Cora said sternly.

"Oh, yes. We will go. Not just to see Edith and bring her home, but to make sure that Strallan doesn't bring her home first!" Robert proclaimed as he downed his drink and slammed it on the desk.

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Edith rolled over on her side, surprised to feel clean, cotton sheets instead of sand. She blinked fiercely as her eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light, Edith noticed that she was in what appeared to be a hospital room. There were bottles and jars of gauze and saline, pumps and clean sheets, and a red cross plastered on almost every surface. And as she looked through the porthole next to her bed and saw the black waves moving gently outside, the events of the last day seemed to sharpen clearly in her mind.

She remembered how she felt with Anthony, his body heavy on hers, his lips warm on hers, and how she longed to become one with him after all this time. And then she remembered a uniformed American yanking her beloved off of her and being escorted to a ship all while she screamed his name. Apparently, the guardsmen were under the impression that Anthony had tried to force himself on her, what with all of the noises she had made. Of course, the noises she made were purely grounded in pleasure, but the guardsmen had been mistaken, and Edith was too shocked to explain the situation properly. And now that Edith realized that Anthony was not in the room with her, that she was all alone, she cursed herself.

"It's all your fault!" she muttered angrily under her breath.

Determined to right what was wrong, she threw her legs over the edge of the bed, only to feel a sharp pain in her calf. She looked down and the bandage Anthony had made out of his shirtsleeve was gone, replaced with a patch of crisp, white gauze. She peeled it back and saw the blackened stitches woven through her skin. Wincing at the sight, Edith stood on it anyway, walked across the room and grabbed the robe provided by the Coast Guard, and left her room in search of Anthony.

She didn't know which room Anthony was staying in, but she would knock on every single door on this ship if she had to until she found him. She had to see him, to apologize for not being more forceful in correcting the guardsmen, and to reassure him that she really meant what she had vowed to him on the beach.

Stepping onto the cold floor of the ship, Edith tiptoed down the hall, checking the doors for any identification as to its occupants. Her room had a chart hanging just next to the door and as she peered down the corridor, she noticed that none of the other hospital rooms had charts next to their doors, that is, except for one other. Feeling her stomach knot up in the most excited way, Edith hobbled towards Anthony's room.

Without knocking, Edith opened the door and let herself in. She saw Anthony in bed, his face turned towards the porthole with a sad, tired look to him.

As she closed the door, Anthony bolted up in an instant. "Edith, what are you doing here?" he asked, both relieved to see her and terrified that they might get caught.

"I had to see you, Anthony. I feel terrible about what happened, about how those guardsmen treated you," Edith told him, inching closer to his bed.

Seeing Edith in nothing but a hospital robe with the moonlight painting her skin made Anthony's heart swell. "Oh, my sweet one, you have nothing to apologize for. I should be the one saying sorry for not showing enough restraint, for not waiting until we were absolutely certain we wouldn't be rescued. It's just that…well, Edith you have quite the effect on me. I am a man after all, a man desperately in love with a woman."

"Oh, Anthony!" Edith cried out as she ran to his bed and threw her arms around him. Not expecting her full bodyweight on him so suddenly, Anthony grunted slightly, but then happily wrapped his good arm around her. Edith pulled away to get a good look at him. Rubbing her hand along his jaw, she said, "I see they have given you a proper shave."

Chuckling, Anthony replied, "So they have."

"I like you this way, but I must say, there is something about you when you have a beard," she teased.

"Is there?" he managed before Edith pressed her lips gently against his mouth. Their kiss was sweet and honeyed, honest and adoring. They both knew it could go no farther, and they didn't want it to, not on this ship, not after what happened. As Edith nestled into his side, Anthony pulled the blankets over her and savored the closeness of her body next to his.

Running her hand along his clean cotton shirt, Edith told him, "You know, Anthony, I believe you showed plenty of restraint back on the island."

"Edith, we waited a day."

"Exactly. Plenty of time," she joked, earning a laugh from Anthony. "But really, we have waited nearly a decade to be together…that's long enough and when I'm released from the hospital, we must make it official."

"I agree most wholeheartedly," Anthony replied, pressing a kiss into Edith's hair and running his good hand along her spine. "But for now, we need rest."

"So nice to do it in a proper bed, don't you think?"

Already feeling sleep gripping him, Anthony languidly murmured, "It is…"

Smiling into his shirt, Edith drifted off into a happy slumber.

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The next morning, a Coast Guard nurse was greeted by rather a shocking sight: Anthony and Edith grasping each other, her leg hitched up over his waist, and his hand scandalously low on her back.

Clearing her throat loudly, Nurse Rafferty, a thin, middle-aged woman with a Southern accent, began to pull the sheets off of the entangled pair. "I don't know how they do it in England, but here in America, unmarried people do not spend the night together!" she barked, startling Edith and Anthony from their slumber.

Edith jumped out of bed and tightened her robe. "I'm terribly sorry, Nurse. I'll just…be going," she muttered embarrassingly as she hobbled out of the room.

Nurse Rafferty motioned for Anthony to sit up on his bed as she took his vitals. Still with a sheepish, lopsided grin on his face, the nurse scoffed. "A man of your age spending the night with a young, unmarried woman? You should know better, Mr. Strallan."

Not bothering to correct her about his title, Anthony nodded his head. "You're quite right, Nurse Rafferty. But I can assure you, nothing improper occurred last night. We missed each other, we've grown accustomed to each other's presence on the island."

Moving her stethoscope around his back, she replied, "Well, you poor dears have been through quite an ordeal, that much I'll admit. But promise that you'll make an honest woman out of Miss Crawley before you spend the night together again?"

"I intend to," he declared proudly. "Lady Edith and I have known each other for nearly ten years, you see. We have had one, almost two marriage proposals, a wedding, a…jilting, on my part, and thank heaven, a reunion, and a rescue."

Moving the instrument to his chest, Nurse Rafferty's stern expressing seemed to be melting away. "You seem like star-crossed lovers, don't you think?"

"It appears as though we are," Anthony said, smiling as he thought about his beloved.

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It wasn't long after Nurse Rafferty changed Edith's bandages did the ship make port in Miami. Edith was loaded into an ambulance on her way to a nearby hospital. After some explaining on Edith's part about the situation on the island, the officers reluctantly allowed Anthony to accompany her in the ambulance.

"One of the ensigns told me that your grandmother has been notified and that she'll meet us at the hospital," Anthony told Edith as he held her hand.

"Well that's good news at least. But it's utterly ridiculous that I need to go to a hospital in the first place. I feel fine!"

"Regardless, I don't want you taking any chances, not until you're completely healed."

Looking up at this kind man wearing a spare Coast Guard uniform since his only clothes were ruined, Edith grinned knowingly. "By 'chances,' you do mean continuing what we started on the island?"

Turning a slight shade of red, Anthony nodded his head without making eye contact.

"I thought so," Edith said slyly.

Soon after Edith was checked into her hospital room and was beginning to get situated, Martha Levinson came bursting through the door and gathered her granddaughter into bosom.

"Oh, Edith, my dear! Thank God you're alive!" she bellowed, her cheeks stained with happy tears.

"Grandmama! It's so good to see you!" Edith said, albeit in a muffled tone as her face was buried in her grandmother's chest.

After planting about a dozen kisses on Edith's face, Martha stood up and turned to Anthony. "And you!"

Anthony wasn't sure if her tone was welcoming or accusatory, but he faintly smiled anyway. The American approached him and grabbed his good hand in both of hers and looked up into his blue eyes.

"It's so good to see you alive, as well, Sir Anthony," she said sincerely.

As Anthony was about to reply, Edith chirped, "Sir Anthony helped save my life countless times in the past two and a half weeks, Grandmama!"

"Is that so?" she inquired of the man.

"Your granddaughter is being quite generous. I helped a bit, but she helped me as well."

"Anthony is just being humble, Grandmama; don't listen to a word he says!" she teased.

That seemed to lighten the mood in the room. Martha squeezed his hand tightly and said, "If what Edith says is true, then I owe you a hearty 'thank you,' don't I?"

"No thanks is necessary, Mrs. Levinson. I would do anything for her."

Looking him in the eye yet again, this time with a curious look, she responded, "I don't doubt you would…"

A stout, elderly nurse popped into the room to announce that visiting hours were coming to a close. After she left, Martha turned to Anthony and asked, "Where are you staying, Sir Anthony?"

Anthony hadn't even thought about his accommodations. He was wearing a borrowed uniform, all of his personal affects had gone down with the _Carmania_, and he didn't have any American money with him. Babbling something incoherent, Anthony insisted he couldn't be a bother.

"Nonsense! You'll stay with me at my summer home. I have plenty of room and we'll get some clothes sent for you," Martha offered.

"That is very gracious of you, Mrs. Levinson, but I couldn't impose."

"The man who saved my Edith's life could never impose upon me! Now, if you'll excuse us girls for a moment, I'd like a quick word with my granddaughter."

Nodding, Anthony began to leave the room, but turned at the last moment, walked past Martha, and placed a delicate kiss on Edith's forehead. "I'll be back first thing tomorrow morning, my sweet one. Please, sleep well."

Smiling sadly knowing that it would be their first night apart since being swept away to sea, Edith watched as Anthony left her room.

Sensing Edith's sudden sadness, Martha sat on the edge of the bed and told her, "I'll watch over him, kiddo, don't' you worry."

"Please do, Grandmama. He puts on a brave front, but he always lets his insecurities get in the way of his feelings. I wish I didn't have to be in this ruddy hospital so I could stay with him tonight!"

"Um, Edith, I don't mean to pry, but did anything…happen between you and Sir Anthony while you were on the island?"

Edith knew she was beat; Martha Levinson had a sixth sense about these things. Sheepishly, she nodded. "We thought there was no chance of being rescued, what with us being stranded in the middle of nowhere, so we exchanged our own vows on the beach. Anthony and I were…about to get along with our…wedding night when the Coast Guard found us," Edith admitted.

A small, knowing smile flashed across Martha's face in a quick second. "Ah, I see. So, it seems as though you have forgiven him for jilting you at the altar two years ago?"

"I have forgiven him and then some, Grandmama. I have never stopped loving him, even after all this time."

"I thought as much. And this editor your mother told me about? Apparently things are through with him now?"

"Completely, although I haven't told him yet," Edith said definitively. "I was only with Michael to help me ignore the longing my heart had for Anthony."

"Tale as old as time, deary. But now, you need your rest. I will watch over your Sir Anthony tonight and tomorrow, we'll be back to pester you the whole day through!"

"Thank you!" Edith exclaimed as she pulled her grandmother into an embrace. With a final kiss, Martha left the room to chase after Anthony.

As Edith sank into bed, blissfully feeling as though everything was falling into place, she had no idea that at that moment, Robert and Cora Crawley were on a ship bound for Miami and that when they arrived, things would be turned drastically upside down.

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A/N: Thank you so very much for all of the responses to the last chapter! I'm sorry for leaving you on a cliff and again for making you wait far too many days for an update, but I hope this didn't disappoint. When Robert and Cora arrive, Edith and Anthony's relationship will be tested like it never has been before, especially now that Robert knows what his daughter and Anthony were up to on the island ;)

Anyway, thanks again for reading this little story of mine. Let me know your thoughts on this installment if you can spare the time :D

NJB


	9. The Grandmother

A/N: So, in this chapter, there will be some characterizations that go to the extreme, but bear with me! Also, for reference, Edith and Anthony are NOT married legally yet (though, in spirit, they most definitely are!), but Edith has told the hospital staff that Anthony is her husband so that he can see her during visiting hours, which often only allow close relatives and spouses.

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"That looks fantastic! Edith will certainly find you rather handsome in that suit!" Martha Levinson exclaimed as Anthony stepped off of the tailor's fitting platform. The navy tweed suit was rather tight as the shop was unaccustomed to fitting a man of Anthony's height, but the color complemented his eyes quite well.

He looked down at his body, examining himself, unsure whether was Martha was simply pouring out compliments to get out of there since they had been there far too long or whether he looked as handsome as she said he did. Anthony had never been one to feel overly attractive, not until Edith came around, and it took some getting used to.

"You don't think it's too tight?" he asked nervously, turning to look in the mirror once again.

"Nonsense! Peter here will get it all fitted tonight, expedited, won't he?" Martha said pointedly, catching the tailor's eye.

"Oh, of, of course, Mrs. Levinson!" Peter stuttered.

"Good. For tonight, Anthony, how about a warm sweater and a pair of pajamas? We won't be going anywhere fancy, just dinner with me, I'm afraid," Martha offered.

"I could think of nothing better, Mrs. Levinson," he replied as Peter divested him of the jacket.

"I can see why Edith likes you, you know. You're quite the sweet talker," she said with a wink as she turned to leave so Anthony could change and she could pay for his suits and sleep clothes.

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Many hours later, Anthony found himself sitting inside the living room of Martha's summer home, settled near the fireplace feeling uncomfortable in such a state of undress, that is, a sweater and trousers, with a mojito in his hand. Martha swore by the drink, saying you could only get the best rum in Miami. Anthony had never had a mixed drink before; he always preferred scotch or champagne, but this new beverage was warming him in ways even his finest scotch could not.

The two sat in a peaceful silence for quite some time, staring intently into the fire or into their drinks.

As Anthony's eyelids grew heavier, Martha's voice brought him back to the moment. "You know," she began. "While I approve of your relationship with my granddaughter, I have very little say on the matter. My son-in-law will never stand for it. I just know it…"

Anthony nodded and took a long sip of the mojito, allowing the sweetness to coat his throat. "I'm afraid you're right. Ever since the war, Robert has been dead set against my relationship with Edith. I can understand his position, though; I mean, I wouldn't want my daughter involved with a cripple twice her age."

"I really wish you wouldn't do that," Martha said plainly.

Anthony tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean? Do what?"

"Belittle yourself like that. When you do, it not only reflects badly on yourself, but on Edith, as well. It means that she has settled, that she has poor taste in men, or that she could do no better. But all of that is so far from the truth, Anthony. You should have heard my granddaughter earlier in the hospital. She speaks like a woman in love. I know, because I sounded the same when I fell in love with Isidore, Edith's grandfather. Women in love are rather similar, Anthony, no matter the time or the man."

Anthony smiled lopsidedly by way of reply and took refuge in his mojito once again.

"But I'm serious about Robert, though. My son-in-law is a stubborn man if I've ever seen one. If I know my Cora, she and Robert will be on their way here soon enough and you'll have to do battle when he arrives, that's for sure," Martha said as she stood up and fixed another drink for herself and Anthony.

"I know, I will," he replied solemnly. "But I'm afraid that I will crumble to my fears the way I did in the church when I meet him again."

Martha approached him and shoved the new drink in his hand. "Then don't," she said simply.

Anthony chuckled despite himself. "You-"

But she cut him off. "It's quite simple, Anthony. Americans are rather fond of simplicity, so I'll share this with you: if you're afraid, don't be; if you're scared, gain courage; and if you want Edith, go take her!"

With his mouth open slightly, Anthony could do nothing but stare back at this woman, so stubborn and headstrong, but equally right.

Fumbling with his words, Anthony began, "I—I don't think anyone has ever been so blunt with me before."

"Well, Americans are sort of known for being a little forthright. I hope I haven't caused offense, but you needed to hear it."

"Oh, no! I'm far from offended. In fact, I think it's just what I needed, a little American sensibility."

"I'm glad. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be off to bed. Goodnight, Sir Anthony," Martha said, heading towards the stairwell, mojito still in her hand.

Anthony bade her goodnight and thought comically to himself that he suddenly knew where Edith got her stubbornness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Early the next morning, the tailor delivered Anthony's new navy tweed suit and he was keen to try it on. Martha's butler served as a valet for the baronet, despite his lack of training in the matter. After an initial period of awkwardness, the two men got along swimmingly, and the butler shaved and dressed Anthony quite well.

Anthony came down to breakfast with an added spring in his step, looking and feeling quite dapper in his new suit. He sat down at the table and cheerfully greeted Martha, who beamed widely at his appearance and energy.

"My, my, look at you," she teased as Anthony pulled a napkin over his lap. "Blue becomes you, Anthony. Edith will be quite eager to get out of the hospital once she sees you in that suit!"

"Thank you, Martha," Anthony replied as Richards, the butler, brought him a plate of eggs and bacon. "It's all your doing, really. I am so grateful for your hospitality and I intend to reimburse you when I return to England."

"Oh, please, dear, do not talk about reimbursements before I've had my coffee and eggs! It's unseemly," she said sarcastically, earning a grin from Anthony.

"I plan on going to the hospital once I've finished with breakfast and I'd love if you'd accompany me. I'm sure Edith would, as well."

"Oh dear, you don't need to flatter me with an invitation; I know that you'd like some time alone with my granddaughter."

Martha Levinson certainly had a sixth sense about these sorts of things, Anthony mused. The two enjoyed breakfast, their pleasant conversation centering almost entirely on Edith, and Anthony simply could not wait to get to the hospital to see her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Four days later, as he stepped off the ship, Robert Crawley squinted his eyes at the harsh morning light. He could feel his blood boiling; he would wring Strallan's neck if he saw him. To take advantage of his daughter…on a deserted island, no less! It was abominable.

Trying to keep the mood light, Cora offered, "Robert, darling, how about we stop about my mother's house and freshen up before we visit Edith?"

"No, Cora. I want to get to the hospital as soon as I can," he muttered hastily.

"To see our daughter after she has been miraculously rescued, right?"

"Urm, of course," he lied. In truth, Robert wanted to prevent Strallan from spending even one more moment with his daughter if he could.

"Fine, we'll go to the hospital first," Cora conceded.

The Earl and Countess hailed a taxi and were on their way to visit an unsuspecting Edith Crawley. When they arrived at the hospital, Robert and Cora approached the front desk and the former demanded to see Edith's room.

"And who are you, sir?" the nurse asked.

"I'm the bloody Earl of Grantham, that's who!" Robert bellowed, growing utterly impatient with the state of affairs.

Unfazed by Robert's display, the nurse simply said, "I have a cousin named Earl. Anyway, sir, you did not tell me how you are related to Miss Crawley and I am afraid only close relatives are allowed inside."

"We're her parents, for heaven's sake! Now, tell me what room she is in immediately."

Cora was a deep shade of scarlet, embarrassed by her husband's tantrum. She caught the nurse's gaze and stared at her pleadingly.

After a tense moment, the nurse relented. "Room 612. Miss Crawley is in room 612."

"Finally!" Robert harrumphed as he darted off towards the stairs with Cora reluctantly by his side.

Arriving on the sixth floor, Robert quickly found Edith's room, burst inside, and shouted, "Where is he? Edith, where is he?" Edith's throat went dry at the sight of her father and she couldn't utter a word.

Cora caught up to her husband and reprimanded him. "Robert! How dare you? Now is _not _the time."

"I'm sorry, Cora, but I have to know where that man is!"

The nurse tending to Edith's bandages innocently asked, "Oh, you mean Mr. Strallan? Edith's husband? He's a kind one, visits everyday for hours at a time."

Robert eyes bulged out and he roared, "Your husband? Your husband, Edith? What sort of nonsense is this?"

"Papa! Papa, please understand, Anthony and I are in love and it was the only way they hospital would let him visit with me!" Edith cried desperately.

"You're in love? How foolish, Edith. After what that man did to you, to our family? How can you love him?"

"You'll never understand. Anthony is a good man; he saved my life during the storm and on the island. I wouldn't be here now without him."

"Really?" Robert goaded. "And where is Anthony now? Abandoned you again like he did at the church? Edith, the man is a scoundrel."

"Robert-" Cora began.

"He is not! He is staying with Grandmama and has been here to see me everyday!" Edith blurted out.

"He what?" Robert asked darkly. "He's staying with that woman?"

Edith didn't respond; she had already said too much. But as her father stared at her, she saw something snap inside of him.

"That's it," he declared. "We're heading home…right now."

"Robert, don't be daft. We've only just arrived and we haven't even had a proper reunion with Edith."

"Daft, Cora? I am the only one who seems to be concerned with Edith's reputation! No, we're leaving this instant and getting on the next ship out of here."

"Papa, you can't!"

"Oh, yes I can," he said sternly as he stormed out of the room to begin the checkout procedure.

Edith began sobbing when her father's footsteps were without of earshot. Cora rushed to her daughter's side and began rubbing her back soothingly. "Edie, darling, shhh. It'll be all right."

"How, Mama? I can't be away from him, I love him too much!"

Cora regarded her daughter. Her words were spoken with such conviction and ardor, and finally, Cora believed her.

"Darling, I have a plan," Cora told Edith, her eyes shining with cleverness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up! School has been very stubborn lately haha. Anyway, there are a few more twists and turns down the road, but fear not! Also, but most importantly, thank you all for taking the time to read and review this story. I'm so very grateful :D

Let me know your thoughts on this one if you can spare the time!

NJB


	10. The Tokens Pt II

A/N: Thank you all for the great comments for the last chapter! I hope I haven't been too hard on Robert (I actually think he has good intentions, they just don't always get executed in the best way. Plus, HughBon is super precious!). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Happy Reading :D

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Cora Crawley looked around her daughter's hospital room, with its plain walls and sterile surfaces, and down at her daughter's bandaged leg and her pleading eyes, full of salty tears. This was not how she envisioned her reunion with Edith to be, but there was still something she could do.

"Darling, quickly grab that pen!" Cora instructed her daughter. "We don't have much time before your father comes back."

"Mama, what…what are we doing?" Edith asked through hysterical tears.

"Your father is in a terrible state, Edith," Cora tried to explain. "He has been so distressed since he learned of the shipwreck and when he heard about you…and Sir Anthony, he completely lost it. I thought the journey over here would help to clear his mind, help him to realize how blessed we are to have you back, but I think it made matters worse, allowed him to stew. We won't get through to him, not with shouting. What he needs is convincing, but of a gradual kind. _You_ need to convince him that Sir Anthony deserves a second chance, but you won't do that here."

"What are you saying, Mama? Are you saying that we…go back with him?" she asked.

"That's precisely what I'm saying. Leave a note for Sir Anthony telling him to meet you back in Yorkshire and we'll give it to the nurse. You said he visits you everyday?"

"Yes, he comes in everyday after breakfast."

"Then we'll give instructions with your nurse to give it to him when he arrives. But you must do it quickly, Edie!"

Edith nodded her assent and grabbed the notepad by her bed, the one she had used to doodle on to pass the time when Anthony left for the night. With trembling hands, she wrote to him.

She then folded the haphazardly written letter, wrote _For Sir Anthony Strallan _on one of its sides, and handed it to her mother. Not two moments later did Robert Crawley storm back into the room with a smug look to him. Cora slyly slipped the letter into her purse, hidden from her husband's eye, and exchanged an encouraging look with her daughter.

"It's all settled, Edith. You've been discharged, and I've called the shipyard and reserved three first class tickets for us to depart to Liverpool in two hours," Robert said. "Now, let's get you out of that hospital bed, get out of here, and get on our way back home."

Edith opened her mouth to say something vile to her father, but Cora was quick to interrupt and prevent another sparring match. "Robert, how about you go downstairs while Edith and I pack up her belongings?"

Robert grunted something, turned on his heel, and left the room. Once they were alone, Cora pulled the suitcase she brought along and set it on the bed. "I figured you wouldn't have any clean clothes, so I asked Anna to pack up some of your favorites, the ones that you left at home, anyway."

Edith lunged at her mother and wrapped her arms around her neck. "Oh, Mama! Thank you for this!" she cried out. Then, as she calmed a bit, she timidly asked, "Do you really approve of Anthony?"

Cora reciprocated the hug, but was hesitant nonetheless. She pulled back to look her daughter in the eyes. "I have always been fond of Sir Anthony and although I thought your relationship with him was…different, I hope I have never stood in the way of the two of you. It would be odd, I admit, to have a son-in-law older than I am, but if you love him, and he returns the feeling, and promises to stand by you always, then I would be glad to see you settled and happy with him."

"Anthony does love me, Mama," Edith told her mother in a dreamy, but no less definitive tone. "He saved my life, in more ways than one. I was in such a bad place when we met on the ship, but he has drawn me out of it, helped me to see the beauty in life again. Everything seems brighter, more vibrant, sweeter somehow, more than before."

Cora smiled knowingly and patted her daughter's hand. "It sounds like you're in love."

"I am, Mama. More than I thought possible, even more than before our wedding. If Papa doesn't give us his blessing, I will marry Anthony without it anyway. I hope you know this."

"I would think your feelings for him less authentic if you didn't," Cora admitted pleasantly. "Now, let's get you out of that hospital gown and into a nice frock, hmm? While you change, I'll give this letter to your nurse."

"Thank you, Mama," Edith said gratefully, pulling her mother into another hug. "It's so good to have your support. And to see you again; for a time there, I didn't think I would."

Feeling her eyes sting at the thought of almost losing another daughter, Cora nodded and sniffled. "It is, darling. I'm ever so glad that you're with us again. Now, let's put the past aside and look forward to the future. You have a lot of work to do on your father!"

"Don't I know it?" Edith moaned sarcastically, earning a chuckle from her mother as she left the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Richards, the butler, finished with Anthony's tie and smoothed out the creases in the tweed jacket. "Looking very sharp today, sir, if I may say."

"Thank you, Richards. That's very kind. You've done quite well; I'll be sure to pass along a good word to Mrs. Levinson," Anthony said as he assessed himself in the mirror. Not bad for 53, he mused.

"That's very kind of you, sir," the butler replied before bowing slightly and departing the room.

After Richards finished dressing him, Anthony would breakfast with Martha, then head to the hospital to be with Edith, bearing books from Martha's library and contraband desserts from the cook. He stayed with her everyday during the entirety of visiting hours and often had to be asked to leave multiple times by the hospital staff. They would spend hours talking, reading together in silence, or when the nurses were busy, Anthony would climb on the bed with her, and hold her tightly and kissing her lips chastely.

The nurse had told Edith that she would be discharged from the hospital in the next day or so and Anthony was elated. They had decided that they would marry in Miami when she was released and honeymoon somewhere in the U.S., New York or San Francisco perhaps. Edith wanted to marry right way, have a justice of the peace come into the hospital and do the deed, but Anthony admitted that it would be hard to leave her at the hospital on their wedding night, and eventually, Edith reluctantly relented.

Now, as Anthony walked alongside the American roads, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his tweed suit, his thoughts drifted to Edith, as they always did. They would be married in a day or so and that thought alone made his heart flutter and his lips to curl into an excited grin. With some of the coins that Martha insisted on giving him during his stay, Anthony stopped at a flower shop across the street from the hospital and bought a bouquet of tulips, Edith's favorite flower.

Then, Anthony hurried across the street, still marveling at how the cars were driving on the wrong side, that is, _other_ side of the road. He made his way along his usual path, through the main entrance, down a corridor, up six flights of stairs, and down another corridor until he reached room 612.

But when he stood at the doorway, calling out, "Hello, my sweet one", carrying the flowers in his good hand and two books under his arm, Anthony was startled to see an elderly gentleman in Edith's bed.

"I don't know about 'sweet one,'" the old man grumbled. "But those flowers look awfully nice."

Stuttering, Anthony apologized and turned to find a nurse. As luck would have it, one was passing him at that precise moment. He cleared his throat and asked, "Pardon me, nurse, but I'm looking for Edith Crawley. She is usually in room 612. Has she been moved?"

"Oh, no, sir. Miss Crawley has been discharged as of this morning. Her parents came all the way from England to get her!" the nurse replied kindly. "Edith's usual nurse, that is, Nurse Polk, is with another patient at the moment. If you want, I can fetch her when she's through. She'd be better at answering any questions you may have."

Anthony felt like his heart had been ripped from his body. Muttering something to the nurse, he turned around and left down the stairwell. His legs felt weak and he nearly stumbled down the stairs, dropping the books and flowers and not bothering to retrieve them. Feeling like there was no oxygen around him, Anthony nearly ran out of the hospital, desperate for fresh air. He found a small garden to the side of the hospital and collapsed onto one of the benches.

There, Anthony let the tears flow, wiping them away with the heel of his palm. His Edith had left him. She hadn't even said goodbye. What if she had said that she wanted to be with him, that she loved him, only as a means of survival on the island and things had just gotten out of hand? A dozen thoughts flashed through Anthony's mind, all of them casting doubt on what had happened when they were stranded and the following days at the hospital. But everything felt so real, he thought to himself. It all seemed so real…

Through his sobs, violent though they were, Anthony felt a gentle hand on his back. Startled, he turned around and was shocked at the person standing behind him.

"Mrs…Mrs. Milton?" he asked. Lydia Milton, the widow whom he had briefly met on his first night on the _Carmania_, was standing next to him with a hospital gown on. "What are you doing here?" Anthony really wasn't in the mood for seeing anyone right now, but his gentlemanly upbringing operated regardless, and he moved over on the bench and offered the woman a seat.

"Anthony Strallan, isn't it?" Lydia asked, answered with a nod from Anthony who was desperately wiping his reddened eyes with his good hand. "I thought that was you. I don't know anyone as tall as you, even when you're sitting. I've been in the hospital since the ship went down…pneumonia. I certainly don't bounce back as much as I did when I was young. Also, don't tell the nurses I'm down here; I needed fresh air and they all seemed to be so opposed to that!"

"I'm terribly sorry, but I'm glad you're all right," Anthony managed. During his time at Martha's summer home, he had been able to telephone Locksley and learn that Jones, his valet, had thankfully made it home safely, but he had yet to inquire about anyone else he had met on the ship. The newspapers reported that he and Edith were the only ones to disappear, a miracle.

"Why were you crying just now?" she inquired.

Anthony turned beet red, embarrassed for losing control in public. "I, um, my…the woman I love has, um, left me," he stuttered, hesitant to admit that it was true.

"Left you? How? You seem like such a kind man," Lydia said. "Is this the same woman that you saw on the _Carmania_, the one you were looking for that night at dinner?"

Anthony nodded. "She is. We were swept away to sea and stranded on a desert island. For over a week, we lived there and were able to hash through some of our problems. I even proposed to her and we sort of had a ceremony on the island before the Coast Guard found us. I…I thought she loved me, but I've just found out that her parents have taken her gone back home to England. Edith's parents have never approved of me, what with my bum arm and more than two decades between us. She didn't even say goodbye, didn't even leave a note."

"Oh, dear," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. You know, my late husband, Gerald, was quite a bit older than I was. Our marriage was a little bit of a scandal at the time because he worked with my father. But Jerry and I loved each other and my parents weren't enough to stand in the way of us. Love is rare, Anthony, real love that is. I realized then that even if I could never have my parents' support, I would have Jerry's and that was more than enough for me."

Anthony's tears had stopped and as he listened to this kind woman, some of the doubts he had began to fade away. Perhaps it was Edith's parents, Robert most likely, who whisked her away before she could say goodbye. "Do you regret it? Being a young widow?" he asked her. Although she seemed a bit older than Anthony, Lydia was still quite young to be a widow.

"I could never regret being Jerry's wife! I _do_ miss my Jerry, every single day. But I could've married the young neighbor boy my parents had intended for me and been miserable for the rest of my life. Instead, I chose a life with Jerry and although he was taken from me earlier than I had expected, I wouldn't trade any of it. As it so happens, the young man my parents wanted me to marry died of cancer a few years after I married Jerry, so youth is not always the most important thing."

"You're very wise, Lydia, far more than myself," he replied. Mrs. Milton smiled widely. The two sat in a contemplative silence, each thinking of their respective loves and after a time, Lydia began to shiver.

"Here, allow me," Anthony said as he began to divest himself of his jacket.

"Oh, dear, that's not necessary!" she protested.

"No, it is. You're ill with pneumonia!" Anthony insisted. Once the jacket was free (quite an accomplishment with just one arm and no valet), he swung it around the woman's shoulders.

As he did, a small object flew from his breast pocket and clinked and bounced along the brick ground. "What was that?" Lydia asked.

Immediately, Anthony's heart swelled as his eyes locked with the object in question. Resting plain as day atop the bricks was a locket, Edith's locket. Reverently, he approached it and picked it up with his good hand.

The tears threatened to well up once again, but Anthony fought back. "It's Edith's locket. She gave it to me in place of a wedding ring when we married on the island. Her mother said it would help her find true love and she told me that it did."

"Well, you see, dear, that sounds like she really did love you. I don't care if your girl is the best actress around, women don't just say things like that if they don't mean it," Lydia explained.

"Do you think so?" he asked of her, rubbing the cool metal of the locket between his fingers.

Before Lydia could respond, a shouting voice pierced their solitude. "Mr. Strallan! Mr. Strallan! I have something for you!"

Running towards the garden was Nurse Polk, the one who primarily took care of Edith. The young woman arrived near the bench where Anthony and Lydia sat, panting heavily from the run downstairs. Through labored breaths, Nurse Polk told them, "Mr. Strallan, I have this for you!" Pulling out the letter from her apron pocket, she handed it to Anthony who immediately recognized his name written in familiar cursive, feeling a smile stretch across his face.

"Miss Crawley asked me to give this to you this morning before she left. She was so distraught that she wouldn't be able to say goodbye to you, but told me that this letter will help explain things."

Anthony unfolded the letter and devoured its contents.

_My dearest Anthony,_

_I don't have much time to write this, but my parents have arrived in Miami and my father is demanding that I return with them today. As per my mother's instructions, I'm going with them and I will try to convince my father how right we are together, that you are the only one for me, on the journey back to England. What I need you to do is to come back to Yorkshire. If all goes well, we will marry with my father's blessing. If not, I will marry you anyways, because Anthony, you are the only one I love and I desperately long to be your wife. Please meet me at Downton the moment you return. I will think of you every morning, every night, and every moment in between._

_Forever yours,_

_Edith_

Anthony's eyes stung once again, and he started laughing through sniffles. Turning to the two anxiously waiting women, he proudly declared, "Edith still loves me! She wants me to return to England as soon as I can and we will be married properly. She…she still loves me…"

Mrs. Milton and Nurse Polk both erupted with glee, clapping their hands and smiling widely.

A look of determination transformed Anthony's face and he felt a surge of purpose course within him. Turning to Lydia, he asked, "Mrs. Milton, may I have my jacket back?"

Quickly the woman pulled it from her shoulders and as Anthony put it on with some assistance from Nurse Polk, she asked though she knew the answer already, "Are you going anywhere special?"

Smoothing his jacket down, Anthony defiantly told them, "I am, ladies. I'm going to go find my wife!"

And after a quick goodbye, Anthony left the garden, Edith's letter and locket in hand, and set off for the shipyard in search of his love.


	11. The Reunion

Anthony literally sprinted away from the hospital garden towards the street to hail a cab. Through labored breaths, he gave the cabbie Martha's address and hopped inside.

"Come on, man, can't you drive any faster?" he pleaded. "I've got a boat to catch!"

The cabbie grunted and pushed his foot to the floor. Weaving in and out of traffic, Anthony had never felt so alive. Fuelled by Edith's love and the knowledge that she wanted to marry him, he inhaled the sweet Miami air. Anthony Strallan felt like he could do anything, anything at all.

Once the cab pulled up in front of Martha's grand summer home, Anthony threw the cabbie some coins and jumped out of the car, nearly stumbling on the way out. He rushed up to ring the door and Richards, the butler, answered.

"Good day, sir. We weren't expecting you back from the hospital for some time," Richards said in a courteous tone, moving slightly to the left so that Anthony could come inside.

"Thank you, Richards. I need to speak to Mrs. Levinson immediately, if she's around," Anthony spoke quickly.

As the old butler opened his mouth to reply, Martha came into the foyer. "Sir Anthony! What a pleasant surprise! I thought you wouldn't be home till after dinner. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, well, no, well, I think it is…"

Martha scrunched her brow, confused by his ramblings. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Lord Grantham has collected Edith from the hospital and they're currently boarding a ship bound for Liverpool as we speak. Edith left me a note telling me to meet her in Yorkshire while she tried to persuade her father, but I want to try to convince Robert myself. It's not fair that the poor girl do it all by herself on my behalf."

Just as Anthony was about to humbly ask for money for a ticket, Martha interrupted, "You must go get her, Sir Anthony! You absolutely must! I'll fetch you some greenbacks so you can buy a ticket and Richards can pack your things."

"Oh, that's very kind of you! I will repay you as soon as I land in Yorkshire," Anthony told her excitedly.

"That's not necessary. But I will ask you something else as a form of repayment."

"Of course, anything you like."

"Even if my son-in-law refuses to give you his blessing, I want you to marry my granddaughter anyway," Martha told him sternly, but with affection, a task perfected only by grandmothers. "Don't sneak away to a registrar, no matter how tempting; host a big, lavish wedding because you're proud to be in love with each other! And please, for the love of all that is good, don't ever doubt yourself again!"

A wide smile stretched across Anthony's lips and his bright blue eyes glistened. "You are a very wise woman, Mrs. Levinson. And I intend to do anything and everything you ask of me."

"Good. Now let's get you ready for travel; we haven't much time," Martha said, waving her hand at Anthony so that he would follow to her study where she kept her purse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How many ships are leaving for England today?" Anthony asked the sales clerk at a booth near the shipyard. He had a single brown suitcase with some spare clothes, his blue tweed suit, and some green bank notes for his journey. Even though Martha had requested other forms of repayment, which Anthony intended to honor, the gentleman could not take money when he had means himself.

"Just one, sir, the RMS _Olympic_. It's boarding now and will be departing in about twenty minutes," the clerk replied. Anthony felt as though the stars had aligned once again. This was the only ship leaving Miami for Liverpool and Edith was sure to be on it.

"One first class ticket, please. I don't care what sort of room," Anthony told him.

"I'm sorry, sir," the young American told him. "We've just sold our last single first class room."

"Do you have any others? I'm not picky; I just have to get on that ship somehow."

The clerk scrolled down his ledger with a scrutinizing eye. "I'm afraid we only have rooms in third class available," he said apologetically. Scanning Anthony's appearance, the young clerk could tell that this was a man of high class and probably wouldn't want to spend a week in third class.

But to the clerk's surprise, Anthony accepted. "Yes, one third class ticket, please."

Well, I have seen stranger things, the clerk thought to himself as he prepared the Englishman's ticket.

As the clerk recorded the purchase in his ledger, Anthony tried to ask nonchalantly, "Excuse me, I don't mean to bother, but I was wondering what room Robert Crawley is staying in. He's an old friend of mine, and he told me he'd be on board today but silly beggar, forgot to tell me what room he's staying in." He felt uncomfortable asking Robert's whereabouts, but figured the clerk would be more likely to tell him a male friend's room number than a young woman's.

The clerk scanned his ledger with his index finger. "Ah, yes. Mr. Crawley has reserved rooms 422 and 424. Those rooms are right next to each other and it looks as though he boarded about an hour ago."

"Thank you very much," Anthony gratefully replied, relieved that Edith was definitely on board. He paid the clerk, dashed down to the dock where he handed his third class ticket to a suspicious porter, and got on board the ship where his love was now currently residing.

Anthony navigated his way down to third class, heads turning all along the way. Upon finding his room, he was somewhat disquieted by the bunk beds and communal lavatories. It would be a change from what he was normally used to, but Anthony decided it was a small sacrifice to make if it meant that he could see Edith and help her convince her father.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Papa, I would like to speak with you for a moment," Edith managed despite the frog in her throat. She stole a glance at her mother, who nodded encouragingly. With more gusto, she added, "I'd like to speak to you about Sir Anthony."

It was a definite statement, clearly not a request.

"What's to talk about, Edith?" Robert asked as he rolled his eyes. "Nothing has changed. The man led you on and then jilted you at the altar in front of all of our friends. We were the laughing stock of the county and most of London for months!"

"He jilted me because you and Granny couldn't have been more inhospitable towards him!" Edith admonished. Her tone was bordering on rage and a staged cough from her mother brought her back down. Cora was right: shouting was not the way to get through to Robert Crawley.

"Well, I wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of having a son-in-law nearly my age with a bum arm."

"But that's the problem, Papa," Edith explained more calmly. "Perhaps _you_ weren't thrilled about Anthony as a son-in-law, but _I_ was thrilled to have him as a husband and that was really all that mattered."

His daughter's words resonated with him for a moment, but Robert refused to be swayed. "Perhaps you wanted him for a husband in _that_ moment, but Edith, he's a cripple who will need a nurse in a few years, not a wife. He will only slow down even further and you will be left taking care of an aging, crippled codger. And you could probably push the hope of children aside! Strallan's far too old to be a _proper_ husband."

Edith felt her blood boiling at her father's verbal assault on Anthony. This, she could not stand for. Before she could think twice, Edith blurted, "Well, when we were on the island, Anthony certainly began to perform as a husband would! He was rather excitable before the Coast Guard found us."

A thundering silence filled the first class cabin. Robert's jaw dropped and even Cora looked shocked. To hear their daughter speak of a man's reactions so defiantly, especially Sir Anthony Strallan's, made them both turn a deep shade of scarlet.

"How dare he!" Robert bellowed. "If I had half a mind, I would have stayed at the hospital and wrung his neck myself!"

Fearing she had made things worse, Edith told her father, "Papa, you must understand that Anthony was a complete gentleman on the island. At his insistence, we took vows before we went any further. He would not do such a thing unless we were man and wife, in the eyes of God if it couldn't be in the eyes of the law."

"But you weren't married, Edith. Strallan was only taking advantage of a helpless, young woman stranded on an island, using you, most likely, for his own carnal desires," Robert argued.

"That is so far from the truth! He loves me and respects me, he wants to marry me and is able to. If I recall, those were the exact things you told me Michael couldn't offer. I remember your words clearly. You said if Michael Gregson really loves and respects me, he'd wait until we could marry, which he cannot in England. At which point you banished me to a ship that later sank and where I was rescued by Anthony, in more ways than one."

"I'm glad you've brought Gregson up, truly I am. Just a few weeks ago, you sat on your bed crying to your mother that you loved him and that we were ruining your life for separating the two of you. My, how fickle your heart is…"

"Robert!" Cora interrupted. She looked to her daughter, who was fiercely fighting back tears. "There is no need to demean our daughter like that."

"You're right, Cora. Edith, I apologize, that was a cheap shot. But you must understand my confusion. First, you say that you're in love with Gregson and a few mere weeks later, you have completely forgotten of him and want to marry Strallan. Which is it?"

Edith had known that this was coming. "You're right, Papa," she admitted, hard though those words were to say. "For a time, I truly believed that I loved Michael. After Anthony left, I felt so alone in the world, so confused. Michael was the first to take an interest in me after the failed wedding, the first to be affectionate with me.

"I think I mistook the love of being cared for and doted on for the love of the man himself. Michael always reminded me of Anthony, they both look so similar and have a lot of the same mannerisms. I suppose I figured that if I couldn't have the original, a copy was a good substitute. It was wrong of me to be involved with a married man, but I felt hopeless after Anthony left and when he asked me to become his mistress until the divorce came through, I felt like if I didn't agree, I'd lose the only bit of affection left in my life."

Robert was silent for a long time while he considered this. After a drawn-out moment, he stated, "I am sorry that you felt so alone after Strallan jilted you. But Edith, he is so wrong for you. He's crippled, old, and dull as paint. You'd be settling if you married him. Gregson isn't the one for you either, but I'm sure there's a good chap out there who _is_ right for you."

"There's no getting through to you, is there?" Edith asked bitterly. "You're blind, Papa." She stood up and left the room, seeking the solace and refuge of her own.

Alone together, Cora gave her husband an icy glare. "What is the matter with you, Robert? Can't you see how you're breaking Edith's heart? If you would listen for once, you'd hear how they both love each other desperately. Like it was with Sybil and Tom, you can't keep getting in the way of things. You have to let Edith do things on her own; if marrying Sir Anthony is a mistake, which I no longer believe is true, then let it be _her _mistake. It's not your call any longer, Robert."

Robert huffed and turned to the mini-bar in the room. "You are all ganging up on the only voice of reason left in this family!" he muttered bitterly before taking a swig of scotch.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Several levels below first class, Anthony was freshening up in his room. All of the sprinting around to and fro had left him rather sweaty and dishevelled. He combed his hair as best he could with one hand and sprinkled some cologne on his neck.

As he went about unpacking his single suitcase, he thought on how the night would transpire. First, he would go to Edith's room. This was the riskiest portion as he wasn't sure if she was staying in 422 or 424. It would not bode well for their plan if he knocked on Robert and Cora's room when he meant to knock on Edith's. Second, if God willing, he picked the right room, he would meet up with Edith and catch up on everything. Perhaps he'd spend the night, innocently of course, like they did on the island. And then, after careful plotting of speeches, plenty of encouraging kisses, a good night's rest, they would face Lord Grantham in the morning.

Yes, this seemed like a fantastic plan, Anthony thought to himself as he locked his cabin up. He quickly made his way up to the first class quarters and waited by the edge of a corridor. During his time in the war, Anthony had become quite skilled at tracking Germans and while Lord Grantham was certainly _not_ a German, he was still just as intimidating.

So, Anthony stood in the shadows of deserted corridor and waited.

After what felt like ages, he heard a door open and close in quick succession. He peered around the corner and felt his heart stop. It was Edith rushing to her room, sniffling and not trying to stop the small sobs that escaped her. He wanted to run after her, but thought it best to give it a moment should Robert or Cora follow. But after a considerable time, Anthony felt it safe to walk down the hall.

He arrived at room 424 after a few long strides and quietly knocked on the door. "Go away!" came the voice inside. He knocked again. "I mean it! Let me be!" Anthony knocked a third time, fighting the urge to call her his sweet one. But he couldn't risk being heard by Robert.

After the third knock, the door swung open rapidly and a tearful, enraged Edith opened her mouth to yell at what she thought was her father. Her jaw dropped when, instead of seeing Robert Crawley, saw a handsome, tall blond man staring sweetly at her. "An-Anthony?" she asked as though she were imagining things.

"Shhh, we can't let your parents hear you, Edie! But, um…may I come in?"

Edith nodded as if in a daze and moved out of the doorway, then briskly closed and locked the door behind her and turned to Anthony. He stood awkwardly in the middle of her room and smiled lopsidedly. As he was about to break the silence, Edith ran up to him and threw her arms around him.

"I'm so glad you're here, Anthony," she whispered through soft sobs. "Oh, you must have read my letter! I'm so glad…"

Anthony pulled her tightly against him, rubbing comforting circles on her back with his good hand. "Oh, my darling, thank you so much for that letter. It has helped in ways you cannot believe."

"I am literally shocked beyond belief that you're here. I just spent the last half hour arguing with my father about us and it was so terribly unpleasant!"

"How brave of you, to face your father like that! Oh, my sweet one, I am so proud of you. Perhaps tomorrow, we could face him together…do you think that would be agreeable?"

"Most agreeable! I don't think I can face him another time by myself, Anthony."

"I wouldn't want you to, Edith," Anthony murmured sweetly before bending down to kiss her lips properly. As he brought his hand up to cup Edith's face, there was a knock at the door and a rattle of the doorknob.

"Edith, open up, it's your father," came Robert's stern voice.

Anthony's body went rigid. If Robert found him in his daughter's room, Anthony feared that it just might be his last day on earth.

Her eyes wide and her pulse rapid, Edith hissed, "In the armoire, quickly!" Anthony didn't need to be told twice and he crawled inside, praying that he would not make a sound.

Edith rushed to the door, wiped her eyes, and opened it to see her father standing harshly in front of her. "Dinner is served in a bit and your mother sent me over to remind you. I expect you to be dressed and ready in half an hour, no exceptions," Robert curtly told his daughter.

Edith would not speak to him and simply nodded. After he retreated back to his room, Edith closed the door and saw Anthony stumble out of the armoire.

"Good thing I'm not a tall man," he teased sarcastically. Edith laughed and gravitated towards him again, playing with the lapels of his navy tweed suit.

"Edith," he warned, albeit weakly; she did have such an affect on him. "Your father is just next door and he's expecting you to be ready soon."

"Oh, but I'm quite an efficient dresser," Edith countered seductively.

"You are rather convincing, but I must insist. I won't let us get caught, not just yet."

Sensing that she had lost the battle, Edith slumped and pulled away from him. "Fine, but don't think this will make me give up!"

"I'd be disappointed if it did," he teased. "Anyway, how about after dinner, I come up and we could spend an innocent night together? Like we did on our island? We could talk about how to get through to your father and our plans after we dock…"

"I'm not sure how innocent I will be tonight…"

"You'll have to be, Edith, because I won't be able to face your father if I have jeopardized your honor in any way."

Edith stared back at this man in awe. She was practically throwing herself at him, allowing him to take her if he wanted, and the man was more concerned with her honor than his own pleasures.

"You're a really wonderful man, Anthony. I love you for it."

Anthony blushed slightly. "I love you, too. Now, go have a cordial meal with your family, get thoroughly stuffed, and I'll be back here at nightfall. Just leave the door unlocked and I'll sneak on in, hmmm?"

"Sounds like a plan! I'll see you then," she said before she stole one last kiss, savoring the sweet smell of his cologne.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Many hours later, after a dreadfully dull dinner in the first class dining room, Edith had changed into the nicest sleeping gown her mother brought for her, silky and lacy, sprayed just a touch of perfume on her wrists, and snuggled in her warm bed. While waiting, she was lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the _Olympic_, and her dreams were filled with Anthony.

They were on their island and Edith couldn't distinguish between the bright blue of the ocean waves and his eyes, or between the warm creamy sand beneath her fingers and his golden hair. She was in paradise, secluded with her Anthony, away from all of the troubles the world presented. They made love on the beach and Anthony whispered again and again that he loved her.

But the sound of her cabin door opening and closing woke her from her nighttime reverie.

"Darling, is that you?" she whispered.

"Yes, who else would it be?" he replied, matching her soft, hushed tone.

Edith grinned and inched forward nearer to the wall so that Anthony could slide in without much hassle. "I've missed you. Dinner was a terribly drawn out affair and I so longed to be with you the entire way through."

"Good, I'm glad. I've been thinking about you constantly, too," he said as he snaked an arm around her waist and kissed the back of her neck and shoulders. "A month is far too long to go without seeing you, my darling."

Edith was puzzled. "A month? What do you mean 'a month?' I only just saw you a few hours ago before dinner." Then, she looked down at the arm wrapped around her middle and realized that it was a right arm; Anthony's right arm was paralyzed and he wouldn't able to hold her with it. "Anthony?"

"Anthony?! What are you talking about, Edie? It's me, Michael!"

Edith was sure that the sound that escaped her was heard throughout the entire vessel.

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A/N: Sorry for the gap between updates! School has been insane and then I took a small trip to Chicago to visit my sister. But, the trip gave me about a dozen fanfic ideas, which is both a blessing and a curse because, with school heating up, I probably won't get time to write them until my holiday break. But fear not! I promise to continue working on this one diligently :)

I so appreciate all of the wonderful responses to this story! I'm ever so glad you enjoy it. Let me know your thoughts on this one (especially Gregson's arrival!) if you can spare the time.

Thank you!

NJB


	12. The Noblemen

A/N: ******WARNING****** TRIGGER ALERT! There is a scene here that might trigger some memories of sexual assault, although I can assure you, nothing of that nature will occur here. Also, there is a bit of violence and a touch of profanity in this chapter. I hope it isn't too extreme…

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"Michael! What on earth are you doing here?" Edith shrieked in utter disbelief. She rolled around and pulled the covers up to her neck.

"I got your letter, darling, not long after you left. Maybe a week or so after," Gregson replied as though unfazed by Edith's shock. He inched closer to her in the bed, grabbed the duvet that Edith had up to her neck, and teasingly attempted to pull it away. Edith resisted.

"But how did you know that I would be here…now? Didn't you hear about the shipwreck?"

"Of course I did, darling. It was all anyone could talk about, especially when they found out that you and your ex-fiancé were the only ones presumed dead. I sold many a newspaper with that little number. But of course, I'm ever so glad you've been rescued. The moment I heard, I was on the first boat out of Liverpool and you'll never guess who was on board: your parents! At first, I thought what terrible luck I had and then I realized that they would lead me straight to you. Admittedly, I was a touch confused when they turned around again after collecting you at the hospital, but I trailed behind anyway. Got the last first class room if you can believe it, darling. It seems as though the stars are aligning for us this time around."

Edith was a loss for words, her mouth gaping in a most unladylike manner.

"Now that I'm here…and you're here…why don't we put this lovely cabin to good use, hmm? Bed's a little small, but we'll have to make do, won't we?" he asked seductively in a tone that used to excite Edith to her core. Now, it repulsed and frightened her. Gregson leaned over her and began kissing her neck and Edith's whole body when rigid.

"Michael, no!" she shouted, pushing him off. "I'm not…I don't want this any more!"

But Gregson persisted. "Darling, don't fight it. You won't regret this, I promise…"

"Michael, I don't want to do this with you. Please, no!"

Gregson grabbed her wrist and stared at it, the corners of his mouth curling before pressing his mouth to it. "Feisty tonight, aren't you?"

Edith grunted and tried to squirm away, but Gregson had the upper hand, blocking the most convenient way out of the bed. 

"Stop this at once!" came a thundering voice. "Unhand her!"

In an instant, the dark figure strode to the bed and seized Gregson from it with one arm. He pushed him up against a wall, causing a painting to fall and a vase to shatter. "I don't know who you are, nor do I care, but if I ever catch you in my wife's bed again, I will personally make you wish you had never been born."

The two men stared at each other, Gregson's throat caught underneath Anthony's arm, and his lungs gasping for air. Finally, Anthony released him and Gregson fell to the ground panting.

"Edith, who the hell is this?" Gregson asked between deep breaths.

"I'm Anthony Strallan, Edith's husband, and _you_ were just leaving," Anthony said defiantly.

"Husband? What tosh! Edith's not married…she's with me!" Gregson scoffed.

"Edith, is this your editor?" Anthony asked, still confused as to who this man might be and why he was in her bed.

"Yes," she replied, shocked at the turn of events and relieved at Anthony's presence. "He came into my room tonight and I thought it was you."

"Wait a second…is this the man that left you? This is _the_ Sir Anthony?" Gregson asked. Without waiting for a reply, he began laughing hysterically. "This is rich! You shack up with the man that left you after some time stranded on an island together? What nonsense, Edith, I mean really! This man is positively decrepit…look at his bum arm! At least _I've_ never left you, Eeds…"

Edith's blood began to boil. "I will not justify _anything_ to you, Michael. I love Anthony and we have reconciled our past. Now, please leave this room immediately."

"You cannot be serious. Just a month ago you were with me and now you're with…with…with _him_?" Gregson asked scathingly. Then, under his breath he added, "What a tramp."

Anthony had had the last straw. This man shows up uninvited into Edith's room, forces himself on her, and then calls her a tramp. He could stand to be insulted, but he would not stand to hear his Edith's name be sullied like this.

Abandoning all gentlemanly conduct that had been instilled in him since birth, Anthony lunged at Gregson, digging his left shoulder into the scoundrel's gut, and threw him onto the ground. Punches were thrown on both sides and the sound of bone hitting bone reverberated against the small walls of the cabin. In one quick motion, Gregson threw Anthony from his body and pinned him to the floor, laying punch after punch onto his face. Anthony fought back, but was at a disadvantage with one arm to Gregson's two.

Edith was terrified. "Anthony!" she shrieked. She had never witnessed such a brawl before, but she would not let Gregson win. She started kicking and slapping him in the back, trying to pull him off of Anthony.

"Edith, don't!" Anthony shouted from underneath Gregson. "Get out of here, now!"

But Edith would not abandon him. She continued her assault on the editor, who was becoming more and more enraged.

Amidst the shouting and grunting and punching came Lord Grantham's bellowing voice. "What on earth is going on here!" Robert roared as Cora appeared at his side, hastily wrapping her robe around her body.

Anthony immediately stopped his efforts at the sound of the earl's voice, and as he did, Gregson took one final shot, planting a devilish right hook on the gentleman's cheekbone. Anthony let out a hollering scream as Robert dashed over to pull Gregson off of him.

Several other passengers had assembled outside Edith's cabin to investigate the commotion and as soon as they saw the fight, the men rushed to Robert's aid, escorting a manic and enraged Gregson to the captain's quarters.

Edith fell to her knees at Anthony's side. "Oh, my darling, are you all right?" she asked frantically as she grabbed his good hand in both of hers and kissed it.

Anthony bent a knee up and he exhaled sharply. "And here I was thinking that your father would be the one to lay a punch on me like that!" he humored faintly. "But, I think I'll survive. Apart from some bruises, the only lasting damage will be to my ego."

Edith began laughing through sobs and she leaned down to place a delicate kiss on his lips. "Forget your ego! You…you rescued me and defended my honor," she exclaimed in awe. "That was so brave…and so stupid! Michael was a champion boxer in university."

"That bit of knowledge would have been helpful to know, my sweet one," Anthony chuckled. Then, more seriously, he added, "But I wouldn't…I couldn't stand to hear you spoken of in that manner, nor would I let a man go who tried to force himself on a woman…_my_ wife!"

"Oh, darling, I love you so much it hurts!"

"I'm beginning to understand that expression more with each passing day."

Cora Crawley, who had witness this tender exchange between her daughter and Anthony Strallan, cleared her throat and crossed the room to the bed so that she would be nearer to them. "Sir Anthony, would you like to be examined by a medic?" she asked.

"That's very kind of you, Lady Grantham, but I think I'll be fine," Anthony insisted.

After the requisite niceties, Cora cut to the heart of the matter. "Edith, what really happened here? Robert and I were fast asleep, heard a loud commotion, and came over here to find Sir Anthony and Mr. Gregson brawling on the floor."

Solemnly, Edith retold the story of the letter she sent to Gregson before her departure, of his luck in finding her parents and following them, of his attempt to force himself on her in her bed, and finally, about the dashing baronet who saved her from Gregson and defended her honor when he called her a tramp.

A hand slowly crept over Cora's mouth and her eyes widened. "Do you mean to tell me that Gregson almost…almost…?" She couldn't bring herself to say it.

Edith nodded. "I think he might have if Anthony hadn't been here to stop him."

"Thank heaven for that," Cora sighed. "Sir Anthony, thank you so much. Truly, you have my undying gratitude."

Anthony sat up and leaned against the wall. "I appreciate it, Lady Grantham, but there was really no question to the matter. I knew I had to protect Edith in any way I could, even with a bum arm."

"Well, I daresay that bum arm or not, you have saved Edith from something quite terrible tonight."

The three were silent for some time, all contemplating what might have been, when Cora asked, "How was it that Mr. Gregson found his way in your bed? You didn't mention opening the door for him, only that he was in your bed."

Edith and Anthony both blushed as they made eye contact. Treading carefully so as not to cause her mother to overreact at what she was about to say, Edith told her, "Well, Mama, the door was unlocked. You see, Anthony and I had grown accustomed to sleeping in each other's arms when we were on the island and I had missed him so much. I thought I wouldn't see him until weeks after we got back to Yorkshire. We ran into each other earlier on board and I agreed to unlock my door it for him so that we could sleep in each other's arms. When Gregson came in, I thought he was Anthony…"

Cora's eyes widened yet again. "Ah, I see," she managed. "I suppose I never really thought much on your time on the island aside from being found by the Coast Guard."

"It was all very innocent, that I can assure you, Lady Grantham," Anthony offered, hoping to abate Cora's concerns. It was, after all, highly improper and he knew it. But Edith had such an effect on him and he couldn't resist denying her something so innocent.

"What was?" Robert inquired as he stepped back in the room.

Neither Edith nor Anthony was brave enough to relay _that_ story to Lord Grantham, Cora noticed, so she improvised at little. "Oh, nothing Robert. Just a little small talk," she lied as she crossed the room and hooked her arm through her husband's, hoping to abate his inquiry. "Simply trying to calm these two down after the terrible ordeal they just underwent."

But Robert was not so easily swayed. "No, I heard something about innocence. What is going on?"

Edith was about to speak, but Anthony stood up, trying to muster every bit of courage he had within himself and pulling himself to full height. "Lord Grantham, I was hoping to speak to you about this matter. Privately."

Robert stared at the baronet, whom he last saw walking down the aisle of Downton Church. His hair and clothes were disheveled from the fight, the corner of his lower lip was busted and bleeding, and he had a bruise forming beneath his left eye.

"I suppose you may. Ladies, if you'll give us a moment, please," Robert grunted. Edith and Cora nodded and hastily left the cabin.

Robert waited until the door closed behind him to move. Calmly, he walked over to the bedside lamp and turned it on. The light from the little lamp bounced all along the walls of the cabin, illuminating everything from Edith's luggage to the broken painting frame and shattered vase on the ground.

"Anthony, what is going on here?" Robert asked plainly.

Startled at the earl's calm demeanor, Anthony mumbled, "Well…the editor tried to…and I tried to stop…and a fight broke out, my fault…and then you came…and…"

Robert held up a hand to silence the rambling man. "Anthony, Anthony, please. Through Gregson's incoherent shouting on the way to the to the captain's holding chambers, where he will stay for the duration of the trip, I have surmised what almost happened to my daughter. I have also surmised that you alone were the one to prevent it and for that, I am truly grateful."

"It was all I could do, my lord. I…I love her," Anthony admitted timidly, not because of his lack of conviction in his love for her, but for the repercussions of those words when said to the Earl of Grantham.

"You love her," Robert repeated, somewhat disbelievingly. "Why should I believe this now? You left my daughter at the altar, Anthony, and haven't seen her for two years."

Anthony felt the old insecurities threat to grip his confidence once again. Robert was right: he _had_ left Edith and abandoned her for two whole years. Nervously, Anthony thrust his good hand into his pocket where his fingers found the cool metal of the Edith's locket, the token of love she had given him on the island.

Rubbing the locket, hoping to quell the fears bubbling up inside of him, Anthony muttered, "Because we've been through so much. We almost died out there, Lord Grantham, multiple times. The isolation gave us time to confront our problems, _really_ confront them, and both of us mutually decided that the past was best left in the past. If I may be so bold, I have loved your daughter all along and she has told me the same. We married on the beach before we were rescued and Edith and I intend to make it official when we return. I would love your blessing, but this time, unlike last, I will not let your disapproval get in the way of Edith's happiness, as well as my own…"

Silence filled the room and the two noblemen simply stared at each other. Anthony, despite the blood and bruising on his face, maintained firm, steady eye contact with Robert, who considered his words.

After an arduous, tense silence, Robert said, "If I am to give you my blessing, I would like to know how on earth you got on this ship and how you found yourself in Edith's room at the precise moment that she needed help."

Anthony, despite his best efforts, turned a deep shade of scarlet. "Well, my lord, Edith wrote a letter to me before she left the hospital that told me to meet her in Yorkshire. I decided that I wanted to defend our relationship to you myself, and not have Edith do it on my behalf, so I purchased a third class ticket and boarded. As for being in Edith's room, well that part is more…complicated."

"I have time," Robert said curtly.

A bit flustered, Anthony continued. "After our initial discomfort on the island, Edith and I became rather used to each other's presence. When I boarded on the ship, I refused to jeopardize Edith's honor or virtue, but simply holding her at night seemed an innocent compromise. I would never do anything to put her in an unchaste position while we're technically unmarried. When we were on the island, we maintained propriety and until we exchanged vows, nothing went…further."

Robert shuddered at the thought of what he knew "further" to mean and held his hand up once again to silence the man. "Enough. Please, I have already heard enough of my daughter's activities for one day."

"I apologize, my lord. But I hope you know that Edith and I intend to marry regardless, even on this boat if we must."

"I will not have my daughter marry on a boat!" Robert objected. "She will marry respectably in our church."

"I'm sorry, what…what did you say?" a bewildered Anthony asked.

"I said that my daughter will be married in a church. Unless, you object to that?"

"No, no, of…of course not," he mumbled.

Robert walked up to Anthony and placed a hand on his shoulder. "My dear chap, my daughter is as headstrong as they come. Edith has made up her mind about you, as evidenced by her talk with me earlier today, and for whatever reason, she loves you. And besides, any man who is willing to fight a former champion boxer to defend my daughter deserves my respect and admiration. However, I will keep a close eye on the both of you for the remainder of this trip. No more sneaking around, sleeping in beds, or prolonged…embraces. I will not have my daughter's name sullied on this trip by illicit behavior on your part. Do I make myself clear, Anthony?"

Anthony was at a loss for words. All he could manage to do was nod.

"Good!" Robert exclaimed. "Now, this has been quite the taxing day and I want to get to sleep rather soon. I'll send Edith over, hmm?"

Again, Anthony simply nodded.

Robert promptly left and a few moments later, a bewildered and wide-eyed Edith took his place.

"Anthony?" she asked as she approached him, noticing that his skin was flushed and his eyes unfocused on anything in particular. "Anthony, Papa told me the good news! Isn't it wonderful!"

The baronet said nothing. Instead, he leaned down and scooped Edith up into an embrace with his good arm and hugged her as tightly as he could. "My darling, my darling…" he whispered again and again.

Edith felt hot tears on her shoulder and pulled away to look at him. Tears were unreservedly falling from his bruised eye and he looked like he had bathed in relief.

"Your father…he has given us his blessing. We are really going to marry, my sweet one, properly this time," he whispered as his teary blue eyes bore into her brown ones.

"I know, I know, my Anthony. It is fantastic news!"

"I only wish that it didn't take my beating by a scoundrel who almost hurt you to bring it about…"

"Darling, you were brave, defending and protecting me the way you did. And besides, my mother told me while you gents were in here that Gregson will be held for the rest of the trip and will face authorities back in London for what he tried to do."

"Thank goodness for that. Put that bastard where he belongs," Anthony nodded. "But, um, Edith, there is one other thing your father said."

"What is that?"

"Your father has asked that for the remainder of our voyage, we do not engage in any…improper activities or pastimes, including sleeping next to each other or prolonged kissing. Hard though it may be, I will adhere to his wishes. I can't bear to lose his blessing, Edith."

What Edith did next startled Anthony. She threw her head back and started laughing.

"What's so funny, darling?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"You have clearly never been a daughter! There are plenty of ways to sneak around behind his back. For all intensive purposes, Papa is generally, completely oblivious!"

"But, Edith, he has laid down these rules and I intend to respect them."

Cupping his face gently so as not to cause pain to his bruised and battered face, Edith replied in a seductive tone, "Anthony, darling, hasn't anyone ever told you that rules are meant to be broken?"

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A/N: I hope that chapter wasn't too graphic or anything. Anyway, I appreciate your reading all the way through! And, most especially, for all of the positive response that I received for the last chapter, I am most grateful.

Just a note on the development: we haven't seen the last of Gregson, brief though his encounter here may have been. He still has a role to play later on…don't hate me! This is a wild ride and the twists and turns have not all yet come to pass ;)

Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with this story! Let me know your thoughts on this one if you can spare the time.

NJB


	13. The Broken Rules

"_But, Edith, he has laid down these rules and I intend to respect them."_

_Cupping his face gently so as not to cause pain to his bruised and battered face, Edith replied in a seductive tone, "Anthony, darling, hasn't anyone ever told you that rules are meant to be broken?"_

A wry smile appeared on Anthony's face. "You _are_ a naughty one, aren't you?" he teased.

"Perhaps," Edith countered. "Now, kiss me properly, you old fool!"

Anthony gladly conceded; an old fool knows when he's done for, after all. He stooped down and his lips met Edith's, soft and gentle at first, careful not to aggravate his wounds, and then more heated as Edith wrapped her arms around his neck and wove her fingers through tufts of blond hair at the base of his head. Anthony shivered at the sensation and Edith felt it.

"Darling, is everything all right?" she asked, her lips reddened and swollen.

"You have quite the effect on me, my sweet one. Quite the effect, indeed."

"Good," Edith simply said. "A wife should have _quite the effect_ on her husband."

"I cannot wait until you are my wife, in every sense," Anthony told her.

"I feel the same about you," she replied, her reddened lips forming a wide smile. Then, after a moment, her smile faded and she admitted, "I don't want to sleep here tonight. Not after what almost happened."

Anthony's heart tightened at the thought of what Gregson had tried to do, and he clenched his fists. Looking into Edith's great brown eyes, he felt any resolve or promise to Robert crumble; she needed his protection, and that he was more than willing to give it.

"Your father has asked me not to sneak around with you," Anthony began.

Edith felt dejected, turning her face away from him to hide her disappointment.

"But," he added, causing Edith's face to brighten instantaneously. "I can't ask you to stay in here. It wouldn't be right. You could come down to third class if you'd like, room 300. There is a spare bunk in my room."

"'Spare bunk,' Anthony? I'm not sleeping anywhere but in your arms," Edith stated matter-of-factly. This was not negotiable.

"I had to offer, lest I felt like a cad inviting you into my bed," Anthony explained. "But I am rather glad you said that. I hoped you would."

Edith impishly slapped his good arm and planted a silly kiss on his jaw. As her lips migrated along his chin towards his mouth, there was a knock on the door, followed by a brief silence to allow the pair to part, and Robert entered Edith's room.

"Edith, let Sir Anthony go. It's well past two in the morning…" Robert said, waiting in the doorway. He wasn't planning on letting Anthony show himself out; he wanted to be certain that the man left his daughter's room.

The pair exchanged knowing, conspiratorial glances, and Anthony placed a chaste kiss on Edith's cheek. Whispering for her alone to hear, he said, "I'll see you soon, my love."

Anthony left the room, pausing to shake Robert's hand and thank him yet again, and took off towards third class. Robert, however, hung around awkwardly between the cabin and the hall.

After a long, thoughtful silence, he told his middle daughter, "I have been wrong about your Sir Anthony, Edith. For that, I am sorry."

Edith didn't know where in the world _that_ came from; her father was never one to apologize. But she was grateful for it, nonetheless. She walked over to her father, the man who only twelve hours prior, she despised, and placed a peck on his cheek.

"Thank you, Papa, really. Anthony makes me happy and I'm so glad you finally see that."

Robert patted his daughter's hand and replied, "I'm only sorry it has taken me so long to realize that."

"The past is the past, or so I've learned since being shipwrecked. Let's make a fresh start, hmm?"

"That sounds nice," the Earl replied, squeezing Edith's hands. "Goodnight, Edith."

"Sleep well, Papa."

Robert turned and closed the door behind him, leaving Edith to scramble for a clean nightgown. Rummaging through her suitcase, she found one to her liking; it was creamy peach, silky and flowing; whenever she wore it, she felt ethereal. Quickly, Edith changed into it. Then, she fiddled with her messy hair, smoothing it down where she could, and spritzed some perfume on her wrists and neck.

Satisfied with her appearance, Edith donned a clean robe and a pair of slippers, and opened the door ever so quietly. She turned around, shutting it with even more care so as not to make a sound, and darted down the corridor towards the stairwell that would lead her to Anthony.

Nearly skipping down the stairs, the nightgown flowed behind her, and Edith could feel her pulse quicken. Finally, she made it to the third class floor and wove up and down the halls looking for room 300. After, in her opinion, what was far too long a time, Edith found it.

Gently, she rapped on the door. "Anthony? It's me."

The door in front of her swiftly opened only to reveal a partly disrobed Anthony. Sling removed, his bloodstained nightshirt was only partially unbuttoned. "Oh, I didn't expect you so soon. I seem to…um…be having a bit of trouble getting dressed without Jones or your grandmother's butler," he murmured, embarrassed by his inadequacy.

Edith could see his shame and her heart broke for him. Refusing to let that get to him, Edith replied brightly, "No worries…I'd be _more_ than happy to help out."

Anthony knew his mouth was hanging open, completely in awe. Rather than being repulsed by his inability to do even the simplest of tasks, Edith seemed eager to be around him anyway. He realized in that moment that he would never stop marveling at Edith Crawley. Never. Not one day.

"Are you going to make a lady hang around a corridor, begging entrance into her fiancé's room?" Edith teased wryly.

"Oh, no…no, of course not," Anthony stuttered as he moved aside. Edith walked into his dwelling, inspecting it intently. The cabin was very tiny, a steel bunk bed tucked away at one end, a nightstand next to it, and a sink and a mirror tucked in the other end of the room. Anthony's suitcase lay open on chair, his clothes and personal effects haphazardly placed in and around it.

"Well, this is cozy," Edith remarked to Anthony, who was awkwardly standing near the door. "Now, where is the night shirt you'd like to change into?"

Anthony crossed the small length of the cabin and fished around for a clean shirt. "This one should do," he said as he handed it to her.

Edith set it down on his bed and walked towards the sink. "First, we need to get you cleaned up. You don't want to dirty another shirt, do you?" she asked warmly as she filled a basin with hot water.

"Edith, you don't mean that you'll-"

"Anthony," Edith interjected. "You only have those cuts and bruises because you defended me tonight. I can't let you go to bed like this, not when you behaved so honorably. I am doing this because I love you and I want to…"

He simply nodded his assent, his awe of Edith growing more with each passing moment.

"Good. Now, please sit down," she instructed as she brought the basin over to the bed.

Anthony obliged and dutifully took a seat on the mattress. Placing the bowl between them, Edith hiked a leg up on his bed and dipped a washcloth into the steaming water. Wringing of excess, she gently brought it up to Anthony's cheek and dabbed away the dried blood. She continued this around his face and neck, dipping the cloth into the water and going back to his skin, reverently cleansing him, taking the opportunity to study his features and watch his bright blue eyes follow her movements.

Despite the hundreds of kisses they had shared in their romance, before the war, after it, and on the island, despite nearly making love on two occasions, and despite sleeping in each other's arms nearly every night they could, this was the most intimate thing either had ever done. It was so honest, so vulnerable, and so trusting.

With his face clean of any blood, all that remained of Gregson's attack were some scratches and bruises, and a bloody nightshirt. Setting the washcloth and basin aside, Edith turned her attention to his shirt.

Leisurely, Edith unfastened the last of the buttons on Anthony's shirt. Then, pulling each arm out slowly, she completely divested him of the garment and he sat there bare. Before, Anthony would have cringed at the thought of Edith seeing his scars. But their time on the island had made him understand that Edith didn't see him any differently. She loved him as he was.

Edith knew, for the sake of Anthony's sense of propriety, that she should have promptly put the clean shirt on right away. But as her eyes lingered on his exposed chest and arms, at the rising and falling of his lungs, she found that she had no desire to clothe him any time soon.

Inching forward on the bed, Edith approached him and lightly traced her fingers along his shoulder. She noticed that his skin was covered in freckles, a result of his fair complexion being sunburned for two weeks straight, no doubt. As her fingers ran delicately along his skin, Edith heard Anthony release a shuddering sigh.

It was all she needed to hear. She leaned forward and kissed the spot where her fingers had traced. It was a simple kiss, a worshipping kiss, one that conveyed everything she felt for the man. Anthony, in all his married life with Maud, had never been so adored. As Edith pulled away, his good hand found her cheek and he caressed it lovingly.

"Oh, my darling," he whispered. "What have I done in my life to deserve you?"

Edith sighed sweetly, dreamily. "You are simply you. That's what you have done," she told him.

Both Edith and Anthony decided to forgo his new nightshirt. Wrapping his good arm around her, Anthony leaned back, bringing Edith down along with him. Then, he pulled the covers over her and gently placed his lips on hers. Their embrace was a soft one, not filled with passion or fire, but with sensuality and warmth.

After a time, the pair parted and Edith and Anthony nestled into the other, skin against silk.

The feeling of Anthony's body entirely up against hers filled Edith with such a sense of protection, of solidity. She felt like danger and woe could not touch her when she was touching Anthony. Edith burrowed her face into his hairy chest and murmured, "I love you, Anthony Strallan."

"I love you now more than I ever have, my dearest sweet one," he whispered.

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A/N: I apologize for the delay! I have been so distracted by _Planes_ and school that I have sorely neglected this one. But fear not! I have outlined the next few chapters and all I need to do is put them to paper (that's the hard part, though haha!). This chapter was just a little diddy, a fluffy filler between plot shifts.

I hope you enjoyed it :) And of course, thank you to all for the wonderful support of this story...thank you so much!

NJB


	14. The Interruptions

A/N: Hello! This will be my last chapter for the next few weeks, until around December 13 or a little after, due to my upcoming law school finals. Although I have about a thousand ideas swimming around my head for this story and a few others, they will unfortunately have to take a backseat to finals :( But boy, during my five weeks of Christmas break? I plan to crank out a lot of fanfic so brace yourselves!

I hope to continue to read and review all of the other wonderful fics that keep popping up…something to keep me going during this dark, study-ridden times haha, but I will not be writing for a while. Anyway, here this goes! See you on the other side of December!

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Edith woke slowly, the feel of Anthony's skin against hers prompting her to take her time rousing. He smelled sweet, like sandalwood and oatmeal and fresh linen, and she felt an instinctual urge to taste him all over. Her eyes adjusted to the morning light pouring into the tiny cabin from the porthole and looking up to her Anthony, Edith noticed that his hair was thoroughly tousled and his mouth was slightly parted. The bruises had deepened and darkened in color throughout the night, but the scrapes were beginning to heal. Edith squeezed him tighter against her body as she remembered what he had done for her the night before.

Turning her attention to other parts of him, parts she could explore unreservedly while he slept, Edith laced her fingers through his blond chest hair, utterly fascinated with the way it curled and twisted.

"See something you like?" Anthony mumbled sleepily, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Oh, many things," Edith purred as her hands migrated around his shoulders. Anthony chuckled and deeply inhaled her sweet scent.

"It's a pity you have to leave so soon," he told her as he squinted his eyes to check his watch. "Your parents will be rising soon enough and I don't want to feel your father's wrath. I've practically scandalized his middle daughter by inviting her to sleep in my bunk."

"What time is it?" Edith asked as she snatched his wrist to look at the watch. "Oh, please. Mama and Papa are notorious late risers, especially on trips. They won't be up for a while yet."

"Even still, I don't want your father to go to your room, only to find your bed empty; he'll know exactly where you spent the night. I don't doubt that he'd see to it himself that I be thrown from the ship immediately!"

"Papa doesn't have the upper body strength to throw you overboard!" Edith kidded. "But even still, what's another twenty minutes or so?" She laced her fingers through his chest hair once again and looked up at him with a devilish grin.

"You're quite the temptress, you know that, don't you?" Anthony jested as he began to tickle his soon-to-be wife with his good hand.

Edith erupted in a fit of giggles. "So I am. It's only because I'm in bed with a man who should be my husband. Three times over!"

Suddenly, Anthony ceased his flirtations. "You're right. And if it wouldn't have been for my stupidity on two of those occasions, I _would_ be your husband. Of nearly a decade if I hadn't been so dense…"

"Hey, hey, I will have none of that!" Edith gently scolded. "I thought we agreed that the past is best left there. We have a bright future ahead of us, Anthony…a wedding, a honeymoon to some place far away and romantic, countless days reading in your library at Locksley, and…perhaps…even children if we're so lucky."

Anthony's bright blue eyes grew even brighter. "Children?" he asked in wonderment.

Edith bit her lip. "Yes. That is…if you want…"

Placing a soft kiss on her forehead, Anthony replied, "Oh, my sweet one, that would make me endlessly happy. Maybe a pair of daughters who have their mother's coloring and sweet, stubborn disposition? Or a whole flock of sons with my lankiness and the Crawley wit?"

"Be careful what you wish for, Anthony," Edith teased as she nestled further against his smooth skin.

The almost-lovers snuggled together for what felt to them to be a blissful eternity, murmuring endearments and pressing gentle kisses into the other. But their paradise was intruded upon by a knock at the cabin door.

Both of them flinched and nearly jumped out of bed. Edith hid behind the door as Anthony smoothed his hair down, found a robe, and answered the knock. To his horror, the Countess of Grantham was on the other side.

"Good morning, Sir Anthony," Cora greeted him. He couldn't tell if her tone was bright or calculated, and it unnerved him slightly.

"Oh, uh, good morning to you, Lady Grantham," Anthony stuttered. Edith stood just behind the door, scantly clad in a peachy silk nightdress, and he hoped with everything he had that she would remain unnoticed by her mother. "I apologize for my state of undress. I've only just woken, you see…"

"We were all up late last night, weren't we, after all that commotion?" Cora prompted.

"Yes, yes, I haven't been up that late since my youth. But, is there something I can do for you, my lady?"

"Actually, I was rather hoping I could speak with Edith," the Countess said matter-of-factly.

Anthony felt all blood drain from his face and he knew he was gaping. "I…I'm not sure I know-"

But Cora raised her hand to silence the gentleman. "Anthony, please don't pretend that you don't know where my daughter is. I am not oblivious to what goes on between the two of you and I'll put money on the fact that she slept in here last night."

Anthony glanced over at Edith, her cheeks bright red, as she slinked out from behind the door to face her mother.

"Morning, Mama," she mumbled.

Cora grinned knowingly at her middle daughter. "Pleasant one, isn't it?"

Edith said nothing, only stood next to Anthony like two children who had been caught with their hands inside the proverbial cookie jar.

"I only came down because after I checked your room, only to find your bed empty, I had a hunch as to where you'd be. Your father nearly went to knock on your door, but I had an inkling, mother's intuition or something, and I intervened. We're going to breakfast upstairs in half an hour and I suggest that you freshen up so your father doesn't suspect anything devious on your part," Cora explained, a smirk covering her face.

Edith was confused. "So…you're not here to reprimand me?"

Cora lightly chuckled. "Not today, my dear. I was young and in love once myself…your father could hardly keep his hands off me once we fell in love! But, we had been married for a time before that happened and I trust that the two of you will be married before I catch you in the same room at sunrise again, hmm?"

There was a sternness there, but it was masked with Cora's quintessential kindness. Edith could only nod before she placed a quick peck on Anthony's cheek and darted off back to her room to get ready for the day, leaving Anthony and Cora alone.

"I am so very sorr-"

"No apologies, Anthony. You, and you alone, have given me my daughter back, in more than one way. Not only did you ensure her safety at sea and on the island, but again last night with that wretched Mr. Gregson. And on top of that, I don't think I've _ever_ seen Edith so happy. She is positively glowing and there's that old spark in her once again, one that only ever seems to appear when you're around. When Edie was…seeing the editor…she seemed happy enough, but never ecstatic or joyful, not like she is now. I have _you_ to thank for that."

Anthony smiled lopsidedly, grateful for the ally he had in Cora Crawley. "That is very kind, Lady Grantham. But the truth of the matter is that Edith is the one who has saved me…in every way a person can be saved."

Cora beamed and rubbed his good arm in a maternal sort of way. "I'll be glad when you finally join the family, Anthony. Now, please put some decent clothes on. Robert expects you to breakfast with us, as well."

"Oh, yes of course. And you won't…won't…"

"Tell him about your slumber party with my daughter?" Cora teased. "No, I won't. Mum's the word this time, Anthony. I think we'll all be grateful if Robert remains ignorant of _that_!"

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Breakfast passed in an amiable, leisurely way. Robert and Cora were both in fine form, and the latter kept smirking whenever her husband mentioned how glad he was that he could trust Anthony to preserve his daughter's honor. Not long after the tea was drunk and the eggs finished off did the two couples part ways. The Earl and Countess wandered off to the _Olympic's_ library, while Edith and Anthony were content to take a few laps around the decks.

Walking with her arm laced underneath Anthony's sling, Edith leaned her head against him and savored how close he was to her, how they stepped in tandem, and how everything seemed to be aligning for them after all this time.

Anthony, in turn, marveled at how proud he felt with this gorgeous young woman, all his own, walking alongside him. He caught the eyes of many a jealous fellow, all of them envious of his ability to attract such a Venus. It was ungentlemanly, he admitted, but after years of feeling inadequate, Anthony decided to take Martha's advice and relish the feeling of his pride.

"This is nice, isn't it?" Edith asked, her voice coated in a honeyed optimism.

Anthony stole a kiss on her temple before replying, "Oh, most certainly, my sweet one. I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life like this."

"On a boat in the middle of the Atlantic?" she teased.

"No! Walking with you by my side, of course."

"Such a sweet talker, Anthony Strallan," Edith told him as she laced her arm further around his.

They took another turn around the bow of the boat, pausing to watch the ship charge through the blue water. It was a beautiful mid-morning, the sun warming their backs and glistening off the waves below them. Edith leaned against the rails, closed her eyes, and let the breeze weave its way through her hair.

Anthony couldn't help but stare and become all the more enamored with her. Abandoning nearly all sense of propriety, not caring who in the world could see them, Anthony inched up behind Edith, placing his good hand on the rail next to her, effectively pinning her against the rail. His chest was pressed up against her back and he dropped his head to the nape of her neck, trailing light kisses down towards her shoulder.

"Anthony…" Edith both moaned and admonished. She felt her body shiver at the touch of his lips on her neck, as though it recalled how wonderful they had felt that night during the rainstorm on the island.

"I'm sorry, my sweet. But you just looked so enchanting and I couldn't help myself," Anthony mumbled with his lips still moving along her skin.

Edith turned around to face him more directly, to snuggle up against him and return his affection, but as she did, she noticed that their solitude was soon to be interrupted. A uniformed man came rushing up to the couple, effectively ending any amorousness between them.

"I'm, urm, so sorry to interrupt," the young officer apologized. "But, Mr. Strallan, I have an urgent message for you."

Anthony pulled away from Edith, his face blushed, and asked the young man, "What is it? Is everything all right?"

"Oh, of course, sir. But the captain would like to speak with you."

Edith and Anthony exchanged glances, both of them equal parts puzzled and intrigued. "He wants to speak with me? Whatever for?"

"I am not privy to that information, sir, but the captain informs me that it's rather urgent."

With an approving nod, Edith released Anthony, but not before he pressed a quick kiss against her and whispered to her, "I'll be right back, darling."

"And I'll be here waiting," she replied as she gave him a fortifying squeeze of the arm.

With a lopsided grin, Anthony was off. He followed the young officer up many flights of stairs and down many corridors until he was standing outside the bridge of the _Olympic_. There was a flurry of activity as uniformed men scurried about their business. Anthony felt rather awkward standing there as the officer who accompanied him went to find the captain.

But after a few moments, a distinguished-looking man, tall and broad shouldered with a thick black moustache appeared in front of him. "Good afternoon, Mr. Strallan. I'm Captain Fitzpatrick. I hope you're enjoying your time aboard the _Olympic_?"

"Oh, yes, Captain. The last time I was aboard a boat like this, I ended up stranded on a deserted island for ten days!"

"Terribly sorry about that. But we're ever so glad that you're safe and sound, now sir."

"Thank you. Now, is there anything that I can do for you, Captain?"

"Ah, yes. Well, I have become aware of a certain altercation that happened last night in the room of one our passengers."

"Yes, that is correct. It was in my fiancée's room."

"Oh? Then it makes all the more sense why you were the one both to stop a terrible thing from happening and be a part of the altercation yourself?" the captain asked, though his tone was far from accusatory.

"I had to protect the woman I love, Captain. Surely, you can understand that. I apologize if my actions upset any other passengers, but I will not apologize for defending Lady Edith the way I did."

"No, no, don't apologize for anything, sir! I have summoned you here today because Mr. Gregson is quite…how shall I put this…adamant. We placed him inside a holding cell last night after Mr.…Grantham…I mean, Crawley…brought the man up with the help of some other male passengers. He was in quite a state, screaming about and shouting. We had hoped that a good night's sleep would calm him down, and thankfully, he has to some degree. Initially, he requested to speak with Miss Crawley, but now, he has requested to speak with you. On principle, I object to such things…letting an aggressive man get what he wants. But he has not yet been charged with anything, nor will he be until we reach Liverpool, should the Crawleys choose to do so."

"He…he wants to speak with me?" a dumbfounded Anthony asked.

"Yes, but the decision rests entirely with you. We can only keep him in the cell as a precautionary measure until the time when the Crawleys choose to press charges once we make land. Should you choose to speak with him, your safety would be guaranteed. He would still be behind bars and there will be a uniformed officer not far away."

Anthony weighed his options. His only contact with the editor, apart from his knowledge of his sordid love affair with Edith, was when the man punched him to a near pulp. Although the rational part of his mind told him to stay far away and not meddle, Anthony wanted to give the scoundrel a piece of his mind for what he tried to do to Edith.

"Yes. I'll see him," Anthony stated definitively.

Captain Fitzpatrick nodded firmly and replied, "Good. If you'll follow me?"

Again, Anthony was lead down many flights of stairs and a rather ominous corridor until he and the captain reached their destination: the holding cells.

The Captain muttered some instructions to the guard, and after the he fished around with a very large key ring, they were lead further into the cells. There, behind bars and sitting on a dingy-looking cot, his hair ruffled and his face bruised, was Michael Gregson.

At the sound of the cell doors creaking open, Gregson turned his head and with an icy stare, his black eyes settled upon Anthony Strallan, and a devilish grin crept up on his face.

"Good morning, Strallan," Gregson greeted, his voice low and calculated. "I'm ever so glad to see you…"

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A/N: Well, this is it for a while! I'm off to battle law school finals! Wish me luck :)

And as always, thank you for reading and having such lovely things to say about this story. It warms my day!

Long live Andith!

NJB


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